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cryptwrites · 2 months

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i wrote this for a creative writing class so now you can have it. also my professor DOES know my tumblr. hi

CW:

To start off, the story - no the account - I am about to tell you is in no way a confession of guilt or a weight off my conscience but I need to know I'm not crazy or-or alone. I have to tell someone what happened at the Porter house..

The Porters live in a classic two story house just on the other side of town. They have… had two small children, Whitney and Jackson. Their lives were normal? I suppose? As average as they could get there.

Mr. Porter was a bastard of a man. He had rotting anger inside of him that he had slowly let consume over the past few years. Now, he never showed his anger, not to his wife and not to his kids but Mrs. Porter knew, and if she knew, the children knew. Eggshells were always walked on around their father, you could tell those kids did not fear him but certainly did fear what he could do if he ever stopped muzzling his anger.

I don't know if they ever saw, but I suppose they must have… sometimes when I would go out to get the morning paper or just to get a breath of air I could see him. Just staring. Not at anyone or anything in particular anytime, no. The subject of his gaze shifted with every day that I saw this, sometimes it was his wife… other times it was his kids. Sometimes it was a squirrel and once… it was me. He would stare with an unbroken gaze for minutes (hours?) at a time. Nothing would even happen for him to go back to normal, he just… did. Carried on like nothing else happened.

I’m not the only one who could feel it. This… off feeling to Mr. Porter and his house. You walked by and you felt depressed. Even without knowing what they were like, the house was sad. I bought my house at a lower price than anything on the market because the realtor couldn't sell it no matter what they did. I wasn't thrilled about this gloomy aura that followed me around the block but… I’m a college student who couldn't afford anything else.

Anyways, Mrs Porter was a fine woman, she was friendly but she was sad. But one day, Mrs Porter discovered she was pregnant. All the neighbors got these little flyers taped to their door announcing it. I didn't even know they were wanting a third child. Could they even afford it? Regardless, Mr. Porter began working on the nursery. He worked on this damn room day and night. I live on the other side of the street and I couldn't sleep at night from all the hammering.

Mrs. Porter started to show up less though. I thought that maybe the pregnancy was getting the better of her. I mean, she was an older woman, and the pregnancy might have just been a little harder on her now. But days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. That damn nursery still hadn't been finished and Mrs Porter was nowhere to be seen. The hammering now just had become a customary part of life, something I only noticed when I was trying to work or study. Other than that, it blended it with the other mundane sounds of life.

It was only at my neighbor's barbeque - Cher. A sweet guy who I honestly have considered asking out two or three times. Anyways at this barbeque I mentioned the Porters and how if he knew anything about the nursery or has heard anything from Mrs Porter. Cher gave me… this weird look. Half way between concern and pity. He asked if I had been sleeping well. I laughed at this and said “Obviously I haven't been sleeping well. There’s a man hammering together a room throughout the night.” Cher didn’t laugh though. He told me I should go talk to them and then wrote down the number to his psychiatrist. Pleasant.

I didn't think much of it, Cher lived two houses down, I mean, maybe he just didn't hear the incessant hammering throughout the night like I did. But I did take up his advice, so I went over to Porter's house the next day. Now, I don't know why but knocking on that door made me more anxious than I had felt in a while. Every knock took a considerable amount of effort but eventually, someone answered.

It was little Whitney. I asked her where her mother and father were. She looked at me confused, so I asked if I could speak with her father. She shook her head and went to get him. Waiting there, at that house, it felt like I was being watched. I mean neighborhoods like that tend to be very nosy so maybe I was being watched - but this, this felt wrong.

Eventually, Mr. Porter came to the door. He was wearing the exact same clothes he had been wearing the last time I saw him. I asked him how he was, how the nursery was coming along and how Mrs. Porter was. He gave me fairly generic answers of courtesy but paused when I asked about his wife. He offered to go and get her. I told him it was not a problem if she was in too much pain to walk. He laughed at this. Told me “We only just found out a few days ago. She’s more than fine to walk.” he walked away with that - presumably to get his wife - but he left the door wide open. I just stood there… had it really only been a few days? That can't be right. I had gone through an entire semester's worth of classes by this point, there was no way it had just been a few days.

Mr. Porter eventually came back and asked to borrow my phone, noting that his had died. I didn't even think about what he was asking before my phone was in his hand. He dialed a number - I, I don't know what the number is. I’ve tried calling it numerous times, but it just goes to a deadline. - he spoke on the phone for a little bit, giving his address and the name of his wife before handing the phone back to me. I asked him what it was. He said he had called the police. I asked him why. “Ms. Porter isn't here.” he said. He went back into his house without a word being said. He told his children what had happened. They both just looked at him. Whitney and Jackson did not cry. I don't know if they were just too shocked to cry or if they just… didn't. I just stood there, looking into this house and… I could swear I heard the hammering start again. Eventually the police arrived, they questioned Mr. Porter who didn't really have much to give, they talked to the kids, who were quiet. And they talked to me, who was as helpful as I could be with my now warped perception of time.

“He’s been in the house. With the children.” I told the officer. I think about it now, and I don't think in those days… months? That I ever saw him or any of his family leave his house. Not that I was looking too closely but I hadn't seen anything. The police couldn't find anything or any evidence of a crime and so they left. Mr. Porter and his children reverted back into the house, still leaving the door open. I don’t know how long I stood there, just staring into this house but I know that by the time I turned to go home it was fully dark. The hammering did stop that night, I could see them all around the dinner table silently eating. Once that was done, he led his children to bed and then went to his own.

I woke up the next day and went back over to the house - I don't know why? I just felt like maybe I owed something to the poor man. I knocked on his door, Mr. Porter answered. I asked him how he was, if there was anything I could do to help and if the children were at school. He paused at this last question again, stating that the children were on the porch. Playing. I pointed out to him that young Whitney and Jackson were nowhere on or near the porch. Mr. Porter could not say where they were. He expressed utter confusion. He once again asked for my phone, I once again gave it to him. The police did not believe him this time and arrested him. But they were forced to let him go as there was no evidence of his involvement, and was brought back home.

The neighbors avoided him, but they had always avoided him. The police would make periodic checks on the poor man but all he would do is work on that damn nursery. The hammering became louder and more violent. One evening, after several weeks of this, I walked over again. I wanted to check on him I guess. I knocked on the door, he answered. Looking the exact same he had the last two times. He greeted me, and welcomed me to his home. I hesitated, but eventually walked him. He offered me a cup of coffee, which I accepted and he offered to show me the house. I didn't really want a tour of the gloomy house I found myself in, but my mouth had other plans and agreed.

He showed me around and I soon learned that Mr. Porter no longer went to work. He did not make breakfast or dinner, he did not sleep. He just worked in the nursery. They were always a strange family, and he was always a strange man and something strange was bound to happen to them eventually, but this was not strange. This was sickeningly ordinary. Not for your whole family to go missing. That's not ordinary, but for this family, it seemed like the most ordinary tragedy that could have happened.

Eventually, we got to the nursery. I opened the door. It was heavy and hard to open, but eventually it moved. I stepped inside and everything about this nursery was bright. It was ordinary. It didn't have the gloomy feeling the rest of the house had. I stood there, looking at it for a second before turning back to Mr. Porter, but there was no Mr. Porter to look back too. I searched the whole house, calling out his name and there was no trace of Mr. Porter. So, like he had done many times before, I opened my phone and called 911. When the police got there, I told them my story and showed them the nursery. But when I opened the door to it, there was no longer a nursery. Just an old spare guest room.

Evidence was searched for, and evidence was not found. The Porter house stands empty, with all of the family’s things still inside – furniture and clothing. Even the food, rotting in the refrigerator. The Police arrested me, thinking maybe I had hurt the entire family, but of course could never nail me for anything because I didn't do anything.

This is not a confession. This is not a plea. I do not know what happened in the Porter house but I know that what happened was far from ordinary and much too ordinary. Something is wrong with that house. Something. Is in that house. I fear that something is in my house. If there was anything to be learned from this, I… refuse to learn it.

#writing #creative writing #writer #writers on tumblr #they/them #writerscorner #writers #horror #writers tips #poetry

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cutegirlmayra · 1 year

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Prompt:

Before Amy could even take her self-discovery trip and share the story of love that even trumps time itself... her car broke down.

Sitting on the side of the road, she was texting the girls, telling them the trip just wasn’t happening today.

That virtual-scape had done a number on her in many ways... the Koco’s story never left her mind... and all of a sudden... her favorite flower had changed, too.

She started noticing them... more often.

She reached out to a magnazine with an article she had written up about the experience and her own personal thoughts, but that backfired... serverely.

Many were calling her view of love to be ‘foolish’, ‘idealistic’, ‘too traditional’. “what does that even mean!?” She frustratedly rose her shoulders up with her hands gesturing out, looking back at the phone at all the reviews it had gotten.

“I should have never let them take my photo...” she lowered the phone a bit... before hitting the button to turn the screen off... for now.

She put it against the side of the car and leaned back to let her head rest against the dead machine... “... I bet Sonic never has to deal with breakdowns...” Her eyes watered up. “I bet... his little engine just keeps on going... never ending... never wavering... in what he knows is right.” she rubbed her eyes with her arm, before... her strength gave and she slid down the side of the car.

“What am I even doing here?” She began to cry, sobbing into her glove as the other hand’s back rested against the ground with little to no energy left to hold the phone anymore. She just cried... it felt somewhat good to do so... She had wondered what the rain on that island felt like... the one Sonic had experienced while she was all... digitlized.

She looked at her hand over her eyes... solid, not glitching in or out.

“Am I...” she started, getting emotionally caught up again against her better judgement, and feeling the weight of her words buldge at her throat and block themselves from escaping, somewhat. As though... the greatness of those words kept expanding... Before she finaly pushed them out of her mouth to bring her breath back from being obstructed, “Am I even meant to tell the story... of never-ending love..?” She began to doubt her feelings for Sonic, his feelings towards her... She could remember him holding her back from trying to warn the Koco that it wasn’t safe, but she kept pressing on... she didn’t care about danger or stupid reviews online... she just wanted to be with him.

“Am I... being selfish?” That sunk deep into her being.

“Of course not.” she told herself, moving her three bangs up and sniffling towards her raised arm. “I’m just hopeless... without Sonic... without love... Who even am I?”

“Well, last time I checked-”

She gasped at the familiar voice, turning around.

“You were Amy Rose, right?” Sonic smirked as he wagged a knowing finger out from behind the car. “Tails called,” he held up another phone. “And no, this isn’t my phone.” He chuckled, “No numbers here to grab, I’m afraid.”

“Sonic...” she breathed out, her eyes bending in absolute relief at seeing him.

But then...

She looked at herself, sitting on the ground like a hopeless romantic and idealistic wanna-be of Romeo and Juliet.

She patted her face and got up, speedily. “W-what... well, good. I’m glad.” she smiled to him before turning her face away, looking up and blinking her eyes fast, “Whooo...” she lightly whispered, trying to get her emotions under control while Sonic watched her with a knowing look in his eyes, but just happily started to move under the car.

“Something on your mind?” he asked, which immediately led her to stop pacing away and drop the act that she was tough and okay. She turned her head back to him, wishing with all her might he’d just... act like she needed him again.

“You could give me a hug if you already knew.” she had spoken it all out loud, like a... well, she wasn’t an idiot, but maybe like a crazy person. “How long were you here..?”

“The whole nine yards.. ow!” From under the car, Sonic’s hand appeared out and flicked itself, “Darn bolts and gears...” He muttered to himself and tucked the hand back under. “You got any tools in there, by chance?” He pointed to the trunk.

“O-oh, yeah.” she started to open the back, “You’re... You’re really able to fix it?” she asked, getting it out and closing the back as she looked to where the hand once appeared, having seen him slip under as though going down a slide... he was goofy like that.

“Should be. I made a plane, after all.” Sonic reminded her that Tails’s biplane was originally his own, and she ‘Ah’d in rememberance and nodded, relieved it didn’t seem the car was too badly broken.

Her pride... on the other hand...

“Here you go.” she placed the red toolbox down beside him.

“No, nah, nah, stop. I need ya to hand them to me.” He waved out a hand and then did the universal sign with his fingers for ‘gimmie gimmie’ by crunching them up a few times. “Tinkering takes time. Let’s fix this mess. Ummm... first tool I need. Repentance.” he joked.

She laughed, “Oh brother, I forgive you for making me wait so long.” she rolled her eyes, opening the tool box.

He snickered, “I meant for thinking you could change the world all on your own.”

She paused... her eyes widening slightly.

“... Nah, you need a good helping hand for that. Kinda like how I can’t fix this car without you, Amy. ... Also, screwdriver, wrench, and crowbar, please.”

She just... handed him the tools, but afterwards, he took her hand, “Come on down here, I wanna show you something.”

She wasn’t used to Sonic giving her ‘life lessons’ but something in her got excited that he was even trying to!

She didn’t hesitate at all, she just moved under the car and laid beside him as he was fiddling with the pipes under the car. “Sorry, it’s a bit grummy under here.” he showed her his hands were covered in black, and she giggled slightly.

“Is that why it’s a man’s job? Cause we like our gloves clean?” she joked.

“Heh, no one can keep their hands perfectly clean.” he started to tighten something up, “There we go, that’s what we were looking for.”

“Really?” She asked as he gritted against the turning cog.

“Uh-huh.” He confirmed, “You see... sometimes, screws get loose, cogs need tightening,... gas leaks out and we lose all motivation to go on.” He continued his work as Amy stopped watching his hands and looked towards his face.

“You do everything you can, but there’s rocks on the road ahead. And there are many roads, and the maps aren’t always made in stone-Ow! Emmm...” He glared at his finger, apparently, getting squeezed in on something and flicked it a few times like before, what she saw when he stuck his hand out from the under the vechile. “We have tires, but they wear out and need replacing. We have ideas and goals in mind... but every now and then, we find ourselves stuck on the side of the road, in the middle of a forest, with a bunch of crappy signals we desperately cling to just to read bad comments about ourselves.”

She remained silent, her lip a tight line, her hands coming together, but everything in her heart was clinging to his words... desperately... wanting an answer...

“Life is never an easy road, Amy. Changing and growing... learning about ourselves, what are ideals are, and trying to inspire others will always take-YEOW! Mother Earth!” He bit the side of his hand, having hurt his finger again. “Hammer.” he held out his hand to her.

“The tools are-” she reached up... before realizing what he meant. “Oh.” she summoned her Piko Piko Hammer.

He took a quick glance at it and then looked back to where he was working, “Smaller.”

She re-summoned it.

Another quick glance before looking away.

“Smaller.”

“Oh, come on.” she made it bit-sized and he took it, angling it just right...

“Annnnndd...” he turned it in his hand. “There!” he gave it a light tap and the knob went right into place super fast. “Lickeysplit.” he chuckled, then held out the hammer for her, “We need help. We need people. If we look outside ourselves, we tend to the find the answers deep within... LIke within this bucket of bolts!” he elbowed the car, letting out a gust of air. “If you really want to find yourself, discover more about love, and figure out your course Amy... You can’t just tough it out and cry alone.” he turned the hammer around with a bit of manipulation of his fingers in one hand and then let her take it.

“I do want to hear all about it.” He interwined his fingers and let them rest on his belly, looking to her, “Doesn’t mean we have to be that far apart, though... right?”

She had been so worried... so worried that her experience of self-discovery and action would pull her away from what she loved and cared about most...

She wrapped her arms around him and he rested his head to return the hug, before they both climbed out from under the car.

“It’ll run alright now.” he tapped the side of the vechile, as Amy crawled out and he stood up straight. “Hand.” he stated, as though still asking for a tool.

She smiled, “In hand.” she gave him hers and helped her up from the ground.

They stared at one another for a moment, both smiling with the rays of a glowing admiration and ‘liking’ in each of them... before Sonic let go of her hand, “Eh-heh, well, you um-” he cleared his throat, then coughed cause the black stuff was still on it, and now just got into his lungs. He hacked a second as he spoke, “G-Going back on the-” he coughed, “R-road? Ehem.” he pounded his chest a moment, but felt a little nervous all of a sudden... why was that?

“O-oh, yeah.” she looked to the car... then rubbed her arm. “I think... I think I can now... run alright, too. Hmm.” she blushed with a cute affirmation that she understood what he meant. With another hug, she quickly rushed to the driver’s side. “Bye, Sonic! I’ll tell the girls to meet me soon, that the trip is back on!” she waved him a cute and energetic farewell, “And I’ll be sure to tell you all about what I find out and learn, wait for-!” she stopped a second, realizing what she was about to say.

As though Sonic was waiting for that, he stepped aside and into the forest a bit, putting his hands on his hips, smiling as he remained respectful...

‘It’s your call, Amy...’ he said in his mind, but his words rang true from his heart to his eyes... which she could clearly read now.

Her hand was out on the door,... not having closed it yet as she had already entered the vechile.., one hand on the wheel.

“... Wai...” she realized... this was her asking him to wait on her love.

He folded his arms slowly... softly... still waiting for her to officially say it...

‘You decide your own course.’ he took deep, mediative breaths.

She was asking him to let her go... to not help any further than this from now on.

“... Wait for-” she teared up, “Me.” she stated, “The ‘Me’ I want to be... and will be. For love,... and all that comes with it.” She nodded, though her strength was depleted after that.

He nodded, being serious about this ‘technical farewell.’.

“Till the long time we see each other again... Amy.” He rose his head up.

She said it.

She was free of her crush, she could go where she pleased...

But she covered her mouth and sobbed as she turned on the car and didn’t look back, driving away.

“I will always love you... Sonic The Hedgehog...” she looked in the rearview mirror, as he never stepped back on the road... but remained on the side near the forest...

He lowered his head down.

Then the rain came...

And he looked up slightly, smiling.

“I... really wished I could have shared an umbrella with you, then... Amy Rose.” he gazed up at the storm clouds as Amy continued to sob as she drove on in her newly enriched spirit and fixed-up car.

“... I really wish... I could have told you sooner.” he closed his eyes, at peace.

She’d be back... and with one heck of an adventure to tell!

#sonic frontiers #cutegirlmayra #sonamy #sonamy frontiers #frontiers!sonamy #sonamy prompt

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farfromharry · 3 years

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Who would’ve thought | Frat!Tom

Summary: Who would’ve thought that the frat boy with the concerning reputation would actually be a big softie with a thing for romance? All it took was the right girl.

Word count - 3,705

Warnings - drinking, mentions of throwing up, language

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Tom Holland, the ultimate frat boy of the campus.

You first heard about him through people in your classes, the classes you were meant to share with him if he were to ever show up. He was considered cocky, a little bit of a whore, and didn’t have a care for anyone who he wasn’t A, trying to sleep with or B, wasn’t a part of his frat.

You didn’t expect good things at all when meeting him for the first time, so that dreaded day when you got your new seating arrangements for the rest of the term and you just so happened to be sitting next to the frat boy himself, was unfortunately also the first day he showed up to your criminology class.

He showed up in a rather casual outfit, nothing too out of the ordinary. A dark blue hoodie with a matching cap sitting backwards on his head. When he turned his head to the side you could see the accent of small brunette curls sticking out of the back of his hat, accentuated by his sharp jawline.

He took one look at the seating chart and you saw, even from your spot near the back, the way his eyebrows drew together in confusion. He had no idea who you are.

You left him to work it out on his own, not wanting to be that girl who made a fool of herself in front of the infamous frat boy.

It didn’t take long until you felt his presence beside you, forcing yourself not to look. He cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him and missing the way you cursed yourself for giving in so easily.

“Are you Y/N?” You nodded your head and you could almost see the breath of relief he let out.

Tom took a seat next to you with a small smile. You assumed he was just trying to get on your good side to ask you for answers or borrow your notes, something he’d need for missing so much of the class work. “I’m Tom,” he said, deep voice unwillingly making your stomach fill with butterflies.

He held out his hand for you to shake, a crooked smile on his lips as he waited for you to respond. “Y/N.” The second your hand touched his, the boy was convinced he had to get to know you better, something about your shy persona intriguing him. “But, you already knew that,” you laughed nervously.

He thought your nerves were cute, the corners of his eyes creasing from how hard he was smiling. He slid into the seat next to you, the boy mentally debating how he was going to go about this. Tom wasn’t going to lie and say he didn’t think you were gorgeous because he was definitely slightly taken aback by you when you first looked at him with those doe eyes, so he didn’t want to ruin things before they’d even started.

“So, you probably know I haven’t been to a single one of these classes,” he said. You laughed, nodding your head. He felt his own lips twitching into a smile when he heard the angelic sound. “Are they really as bad as everyone says?”

You hummed as you thought about it, taking a few seconds. In that time Tom was fully taking advantage, his eyes raking over your face admirably, taking a mental note of all your different features. You tried not to let your nerves get to you when you noticed. “They’re definitely as bad as people say.”

He groaned, catching the eyes of a few different people around you both that made you sink into your seat awkwardly. He laughed it off, finding it amusing how easy it was to get you all flustered, deciding he would be using that with his flirting tactics from then on.

“Let’s hope you make them better then,” he mumbled, biting his lip to contain the smirk threatening to overtake his face. You didn’t respond but he could see from his peripheral vision that you shifted nervously in your seat.

Tom wasn’t sure if he was also getting flustered while talking to you or if he was subconsciously thinking showing off his physique would somehow catch your interest like it had done countless times before with the other girls on campus. But either way, he pulled the cap off of his head, lazily running his fingers through his curls for a second.

You glanced over when you saw his hands go to the hem of his hoodie, watching with the tip of your pen between your teeth as he began to peel the material off of his body.

You almost choked when you saw the grey, cotton shirt slip up and expose the bottom of his abdomen, hard muscles and a sliver of his underwear peeking through.

He placed the hoodie on the back off his chair once it was completely off, exposing the tight, plain grey shirt that clung to every ridge and muscle.

He heard your shaky inhale and couldn’t stop the smirk that crept onto his face, shooting you a single glance before he turned his head back to the front of the class.

You’d expected Tom to be a lot more distracting, seeing as he was quick to start up conversation with you earlier, but to your surprise he actually seemed to be paying attention.

This class flew by much quicker than the all the other ones, and you weren’t sure whether that was due to your thoughts being cloudy by the pretty boy next to you.

“Do you maybe want to come to a party next week?” he asked. You were taken off guard, your eyebrows raising as you packed away your stuff.

“I, um-“ He could see your internal conflict, interrupting before you had the chance to reject his offer.

“You don’t have to, of course, but if you do-“ He tore the corner off of a sheet of paper in his notebook, scribbling down the address of the frat house that you were sure you’d be able to find without his help. “Here’s the address, and there’s my number.”

His lips curved into a smirk as he handed you the scrap of paper, your fingertips brushing and creating another wave of butterflies for you.

“Uh, thank you. I’ll be sure to consider it.” You didn’t want to give him a final answer right now because you weren’t much of a party girl. You’d much rather stay in but as soon as your roommate got word she’d definitely be making it her mission to get you to that party.

“I look forward to maybe seeing you there.” He gave you a fake salute and turned to walk away, one hand holding the strap of his bag and the other carrying his discarded hoodie. When he reached the door of the classroom he gave you one last look over his shoulder, throwing you a wink before he was gone.

»»——⍟——««

The week had passed and you still hadn’t used Tom’s number at all, and he didn’t have yours to text you first, so he just has to wait. The man had no idea if you really were coming or not. It was unusual for him but he was nervous and his friends were starting to notice. Harrison had seen how Tom took a little extra time to get ready for tonight, pointing it out to Tom’s younger brother who brushed it off as him trying to pull another girl, and he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Who are you waiting for, mate?” the blonde asked, placing his hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. Tom sighed, checking the watch on his wrist one more time, assuming that you weren’t showing up.

“A girl from my criminology class, but doesn’t look like she’s gonna show.” The younger of the two just shrugged his shoulder, encouraging his friend to finish his drink and go get another one with him. “Just enjoy your night mate, with or without her,” he said, lightly punching his shoulder in a friendly way before disappearing into the crowd. Tom nodded even as he walked away, quietly mumbling to himself, with or without her.

That mindset was gone as soon as he saw you. His entire face practically lit up as he spotted you coming through the front door of the house, politely pushing your way through a group of people who were blocking the entrance.

He was by your side in seconds, people moving out of his way as if he was a God, and you had to admit you were a little grateful because it definitely made it easier to move.

“You came,” he cheered, boldly linking his fingers with yours and dragging you straight to the kitchen. He could tell just from the way your hand subconsciously tightened around his every time someone so much as cast their eyes your way that you were nervous, if you were being honest you didn’t really want to be here.

“Yeah, um, my roommate,” you poorly explained, pursing your lips together. He nodded in understanding, giving you a quick run down on the drinks the frat house had on offer.

He was only slightly surprised when you turned them all down, shyly asking if you could have water instead.

“Thank you,” you muttered, your eyes roaming around the kitchen. This was one of the more less crowded areas of the house, and even then you could barely breathe from the wave of people filtering in and out every few minutes to get more drinks.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out you weren’t enjoying the party. Even with his efforts of getting you to loosen up, Tom could still see the traces of a frown on your lips and your stiff posture. He took a step closer to you, placing his hand lightly on your lower back, your eyes flickering to him to see what he was up to. He leaned down to your ear so you could hear him better, more or less having to shout for you to hear his words over the booming music.

“D’you want to get out of here?” he asked, gulping down the remainder of his beverage from the solo cup. Your eyes widened at the suggestive comment and you would’ve been disgusted if he hadn’t jumped in so quickly after the words left his mouth to correct his meaning. “Not like that, no, I meant um-“

This was the first time you’d seen him nervous, and you found it quite adorable the way his cheeks turned a light shade of pink; although that could’ve easily just been from the alcohol or the heat of the room.

“I meant, you don’t look like you’re having fun, and as my guest it’s my job to make sure you are.” His words didn’t sound any better in your head, but he clearly thought they did in his drunk one.

“What are you saying, Tom?”

“Do you want to go on a walk with me or something?” You smiled softly, thinking over your options quickly. Either stay in this dreadful party with the couples making out and drunk idiots running about the place, or go get some fresh air with a very cute and surprisingly polite frat boy.

It was safe to say your mind was quickly made up. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He linked your fingers together so it’d be easier to lead you through the crowd, throwing out his cup on the way.

Stepping outside the front door of the house you were hit with a wave of very cooling fresh air. You felt your body heat immediately cool down, a nice and very different sensation from the heat inside the party.

You still didn’t seem to be away from drunken idiots, Tom letting out a groan when he noticed some kids throwing up on the grass outside the house. Your face screamed disgust but you couldn’t help but laugh at him anyway.

He led you away from the house, muttering something about how he was going to leave that to someone else to clean up.

You didn’t even realise that you were still holding hands until Tom subconsciously squeezed yours when he felt you shiver from the sudden breeze.

You cleared your throat, nervously pulling your hand away and shooting him a tight lipped smile. You could see him frown slightly and with a small accepting nod he slipped his hand back in his pocket.

“So, why did you suddenly decide to show up to class?” you asked, a little out of the blue as you strolled side by side down the path in the empty park. Tom didn’t really have a good answer, it was either show up or completely fail the class and he wasn’t prepared to get yelled at by his mother for failing yet another class; but that didn’t sound like a cool thing to tell the girl he was trying to impress.

“Maybe I heard there was a really pretty girl in there who could use my attention,” he flirted, bumping his shoulder against yours. You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath for him to stop being so cheesy.

You didn’t understand why he’d taken such a sudden interest in you. It’d only been a week since you’d met but even in such a short time Tom had found himself infatuated with you, but not in a creepy way.

“Why did you invite me, Tom?” The question had been lingering in the front of your mind for days, and unfortunately you just had to ask now.

You both came to a stop, turning to face each other as you peered at him curiously. You saw Tom’s cheeks flush, the close proximity of your faces allowing you to see every small detail of the way his blush overtook his cheeks and nose.

“Just full of questions aren’t you?” he nervously laughed. The question was rhetorical of course, buying him time to come up with an answer. He took a deep breath, pursing his lips together awkwardly. “I like you. I know we only met last week but I-“

You could feel your heart stop for a moment, needing time to comprehend what he’d just said to you. “There’s something about you Y/N, and I’d really like to get to know you better.”

Your silence didn’t seem like good news to Tom. He let himself get ahead of the situation completely, his heart sank into his stomach and he was bracing himself for your rejection.

“Tom, is this some kind of joke?” you asked, convinced this couldn’t have been real. The big frat boy with the bad reputation wanting to go out with you?

“No, no of course not. Y/N, just give me a chance,” he begged, taking your hands in his gently. His thumbs stroked circles over the skin on the back of each of your hands, his eyes watching you full of hope.

“Come on, one date. If you hate it you don’t even have to talk to me ever again,” he offered. You cocked your head, your eyebrows drawing together in a way Tom thought was cute.

“Really?”

He tried to backtrack. “Well, no. That’d suck for me if you did. But you get the point.”

You let out a small laugh, looking up at the pair of soft brown eyes that were waiting for hopefully a good answer.

“Fine. One date can’t hurt.” He cheered silently, leaning down to place a cheeky kiss on your cheek that left you stuttering nervously.

“You won’t regret it.”

»»——⍟——««

It was many weeks before you actually gave into Tom for a second date. At first it was just dates, which from what you’d heard were out of the ordinary for him in general, but then somehow it progressed into a beautifully blossoming relationship, if you do say so yourself.

You were scared at first that he was going to fall back into that fuckboy role, or like in the movies he was going to be embarrassed about being seen with you, but it was the complete opposite.

He couldn’t tell enough people that you were dating. When dragging you along to parties it was always, have you met my girlfriend Y/N?, or an arm thrown around your shoulder with lots of kisses placed all over your face and neck to let people know you were taken.

Cute little picnic dates became surprisingly very common when you and Tom finally made things official. All your friends told you that they’d never known Tom to be this involved with a girl, because he didn’t normally waste his time taking his pursuits on dates.

The first time showed up at your door with a picnic basket and flowers in hand you were honestly shocked. He’d told you he was taking you somewhere because of the nice weather but it didn’t even cross your mind.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, watching you set the flowers down on your counter. You turned around with a playful eye roll at the way he was rushing you.

“Go where?” you giggled, slipping your hand in his outstretched one. He placed his lips on yours softly, drawing an unintentional grin from you. “‘m taking you on a picnic, want to enjoy the weather with my girl.”

From that day on it was almost a weekly thing, but it was also the thing that let you know Tom was serious about your relationship and wasn’t just planning on breaking your heart.

You and Tom had been in a comfortable silence for a while now. He believed you were reading the book you brought with you, so he didn’t want to interrupt. He chose instead to just look around at your surroundings, watching other people laugh and have fun in the field that sat in front of the university.

Little did he know you’d actually been admiring him for the last ten or so minutes. You stared at the way his jaw clenched every few seconds, making his jawline look even more prominent than it was. The way his curls so effortlessly fell into a perfect position on his head, and the way his biceps would bulge in the tight black shirt every time he would fix his hair after a slight gust of wind blew it into his face.

You snapped out of your daze when you noticed he was talking to someone, wondering if it was you. That was when you noticed a group of lads that were in the same frat as Tom, teasing him about how whipped he was for you.

“Fuck off,” Tom groaned, flipping them all off as they chuckled. They eventually gave up, running away snickering at the rise they’d managed to get from their clearly irritated friend.

“‘M sorry about them,” he said, gently running the back of his hand over your cheek. You nuzzled closer to it for a moment, providing him with a split second of affection before you were back to your book.

All the teasing left you thinking, Tom noticing the way you were chewing on your bottom lip, something he’d noticed you did often when you were deep in your head.

“‘s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked, brushing some hair out of your face. You sighed softly, locking eyes with your boyfriend.

“Who would’ve thought?” you mumbled, barely catching his ears from how quiet it was. He hummed in confusion, having no idea what you were referring to until you’d decide to finish your sentence.

You rolled over onto your stomach, inevitably rolling off of Tom’s lap. You pushed yourself up to your knees, hands on either side of Tom’s legs as you got close to his face with your own.

His hand shifted from his lap to cup your cheek, a small grin forming on his face as the man admired how beautiful you were up close. He was almost too distracted by your features, and those sparkling eyes looking at him to even comprehend the words coming out of your mouth, but luckily he caught them anyway.

“Who would’ve thought that the king of the frat, the biggest playboy on campus, whore if you will,” you exaggerated, lips curling into a grin. “Was secretly a big softie.”

His heart fluttered slightly but he scoffed at your beginning words, feigning offence at the names you’d labelled him with. “I can be romantic,” he whined, trying his best to defend himself.

You hummed, pretending to think about it to tease him even further. He huffed, happily forgetting his pouty mood with a few soft, short kisses from you.

“I’m kidding,” you whispered, slotting your lips together again in a sweet kiss. “Better be,” he grumbled, rubbing his thumb across your temple lovingly.

“Even if you are a whore, you’re still my favourite whore,” you teased, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your giggle. You saw him roll his eyes, his hand playfully pushing your head away from him until you were once again laying back in his lap.

“You’re so mean to me,” he complained, nudging you with the knee that you were laying on. You chuckled quietly, nuzzling your head against his stomach, your arms snaking around his waist.

“I love you though,” you whispered, feeling as though a massive weight had been lifted off of you. That was the first time either of you had said those words. You hadn’t been dating long, and part of you was still scared he wasn’t serious about this, but god did it feel good to say out loud.

Tom was shocked, staring down at you with his mouth agape. He felt butterflies exploding in his stomach and he realised he should probably say something before you start to overthink, something you were very good at.

“Yeah?” he asked, just making sure. You nodded your head, tightening your grip around your boyfriend’s torso, almost like you were afraid he’d run away.

“I-I love you too,” he announced, feeling your entire body relax against his. “Even if you do think I’m a whore.”

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

tom holland taglist → @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @call-me-baby-gir1 @icyhollands @sinisterspidey @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys-blog @itstaskeen @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @spideyssunshine @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @kujokura @l0velyevans @jess-holland23 @felicityparkers @quxxnxfhxll @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @bora-world @annathesillyfriend @lovableparker @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @messedupmyfuckinglife @bi-lmg @londonspidey @multixfandomwriter @mrsholland96 @tomhollandismyhusband1996 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @magicalxdaydream @hallecarey1 @aayaissaa

#tom holland #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #frat!tom

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trilliastra · 3 years

Text

[*drops a sterek fic after two years and runs away to hide*]

It’s all Cora’s fault and Derek will remain of the opinion that his life only went downhill the moment his little sister was born.

It starts with Sara, his sister’s friend, whose boyfriend turned out to be a jerk and would not let her inside his apartment to collect her things unless she took him back. And Cora volunteered Derek to help.

Derek didn’t really mind it at first, Sara only needed a guy to look strong (which he is), angry (which he was) and able to carry her stuff from place a to place b (which he did). But some weeks later Sara met a friend with an equally stupid boyfriend and said friend had another friend and then Laura heard about it and it suddenly became a thing.

Georgia, Nelly, Carmen, Lola.

Isaac.

“I could help, you know?” Derek had said after the fifth time he noticed the blossoming purple bruises on the back of Isaac’s neck, his scrapped knuckles. “If you need to get rid of your –” he lowered his voice, “boyfriend.”

Isaac had looked at him, wide eyed, before he confessed he isn’t gay and the problem was actually his dad. “Oh,” Derek had said, thinking for a moment before adding, “I could help with that, too.”

Turns out Derek’s intimidation skills were lacking when compared to his own father’s.

“You’re doing a really nice thing, Derek.” Isaac says one night, helping him with his hand. Asshole boyfriend of the night thought he could bag a few punches before letting Phill grab his laptop back. Derek was faster, and stronger.

Isaac moved in with him and Boyd two weeks after his dad was sentenced. He didn’t want to, at first, was still incredibly shy and scared of everything, including Derek, but he opened up to Boyd pretty quickly. Despite his built (and the fact he can bench press three times his own weight), Boyd is the softest person Derek has ever met.

“Sure.” Derek sighs.

“But?” He asks and Derek sighs again, looks away when Boyd walks into the room.

“I had a date.” Derek confesses and Boyd whistles in sympathy.

“How many times has it been, again?”

“Three.” Derek winces when Isaac presses the antiseptic over the cut. “I’m – I really like him.”

“You could just tell him.” Isaac says. “He’s a cool guy, I guess.” He shrugs, smiling. “Sometimes he’s an asshole. But not in a bad way.”

Derek huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Stiles is an asshole, he likes teasing Derek when they are discussing ethics in the workplace and every way capitalism is stepping over immigrants, they banter and they quote books back and forth and while some people (his sisters) roll their eyes when Derek brings up some history fact, Stiles nods along, brings up another history fact that Derek didn’t know (or sometimes pretends not to know, just to hear Stiles talking about it), hands moving around as he explains his point or badmouths a historic figure that owned so much money ‘their great-great-grandkids are still swimming in the gold they stole from the natives’.

Derek is in love.

“What did you tell him this time?” Boyd asks, munching on his chips. He shakes the bag in front of them and while Derek takes a couple, Isaac shakes his head, still not used to being allowed good things.

Some memories are hard to forget.

“That my mom had stopped by to visit.” Derek says. He hates lying, he is not even good at it. The first time he tried to tell Stiles he looked like a wet cat after he got caught up in the rain, white shirt sticking to his chest, Derek’s cheeks had gotten so red, Stiles asked him if he was okay.

“Dude.” Isaac says, shaking his head in disappointment as he finishes bandaging Derek’s hand.

“I know.” Derek gives back, collapsing on his bed with a groan.

This is all Cora’s fault.

Okay. Stiles texts back when Derek has to postpone their date again. Derek can feel the disappointment through the message, mirroring his own feelings.

How about tomorrow night? Derek tries, stares at his phone for minutes until he realizes Stiles probably won’t text him back.

“Please.” Maria says, holding her cat with a bright smile as they talk in front of a coffee shop. She is trying to convince him to accept a coffee and Derek is trying to convince her he doesn’t need it. “How can I thank you?”

Derek sighs. “I didn’t do anything.” And it is true, her boyfriend wasn’t working when they arrived at the coffee shop and when they opened the door of the apartment upstairs, it was empty save for the cat that Maria is currently hugging.

“You were there for me.” She smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear and Derek already knows what’s coming.

It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last. He has been invited for ‘thank you’ coffees, dinners, sex. It never felt right, though. Not with the guys, and especially not with the girls.

Sorry. He always says. Some of them are attractive, he supposes, but he was, and still is, very much gay.

“I’m—” he starts, but Maria’s eyes widen and when Derek turns around, a guy is stalking towards them, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“You bitch!” He shouts, startling most of the costumers inside and the shop and the people walking around the street. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my cat back!” She yells back and Derek steps closer, eyeing the guy’s fists as he starts to shake with anger.

The guy notices his move and turns his glare to him. “And who the fuck are you?”

Before Derek can answer, Maria chimes in. “My boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” It takes Derek a second to realize the words didn’t come from him, but from someone in the crowd, one of the onlookers that gathered around them to watch the scene unfold.

Two seconds after that, Derek realizes the person talking was Stiles.

That explains a lot. It’s the last message Stiles sends him before blocking his number.

Derek tries to call, talk to him after class, but his friends keep him away, Lydia going as far as brandishing a can of pepper spray in front of him, eyes shining with an unspoken threat.

“You should follow him to his dorm.” Isaac offers, weakly.

“Creeps do that.” Derek says. “I don’t want to be more of an asshole than I already am.”

“You’re not an asshole.” Isaac says, clasping his shoulder in sympathy. “I could – talk to him? If you want?” The offer makes Derek smile, touched. Isaac is still extremely shy in front of strangers, but just the fact that he considered doing it for him is enough.

“It’s fine.” Derek says. It isn’t fine, and they both know it, but he will pull through. Eventually. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

It’s harder that Derek anticipated, seeing Stiles during classes and not being able to talk to him, to tease him when Mrs. Schilder glares at him for using a pun that makes the entire room burst out laughing from second-hand embarrassment.

He is beautiful, Derek thinks at least ten times a day, and smart and kind and funny and Derek could see them being together for a long time, falling deeper in love as the time passes.

He should be used to not having good things. He grew up as a middle child, as a gay teenager in a small town where some boys were so far deep in the closet, they couldn’t find their way out, he should be used to not keeping the things he likes.

So why does it hurt so much?

“Derek—”

“No.”

“She needs—”

“Call someone else.”

“You are really going to leave her—”

Derek slams his book shut, kicks his chair back as he stands up. Cora’s eyes widen when someone tells him to be quiet and Derek simply ignores them. “I need to study for a test. Call someone else.”

Helping someone should feel good, it should make him happy, not feel like a burden. He is more than an angry guy with a strong body. He doesn’t even like confrontation. He started working out to burn his energy, to let out some of this anger that he’s been constantly carrying inside and he kept working out because he enjoyed it and now – now even that is ruined.

“Why are you being so selfish?” She asks and Derek knows, deep inside, that she doesn’t mean it like that, that she’s just as angry as him, humiliated by the fact he’s calling her out in the middle of the library. Still, that doesn’t matter now. Now, Derek is angry and sad and done.

“Fuck you.” He says and walks away.

His initial plan was to make it to his apartment, bury himself under the covers and not leave his room until his mother comes to give him an earful. Because she will, undoubtedly, when Cora tells her about it.

But Derek doesn’t make it to his apartment, he doesn’t even make it outside the library, simply makes a u-turn and heads for the dark zone, a space under the stairs leading to the storeroom where couples usually go to make out. There, he collapses on the ground, taking deep breaths, and buries his face in his hands.

This has been a long time coming, he thinks. He’s been on the edge for a while. This entire experience has made him remember how awful it was to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, to be only liked for his body or for his ability to pass the answers to the test without the teacher seeing him.

Some memories are hard to forget.

“Are you okay?” Derek flinches, surprised to hear Stiles’ voice. “Oh,” Stiles whispers, noticing Derek’s red eyes, the tears streaming down his face, “bad day, huh?”

“She was not my girlfriend.” Derek blurts out, head a mess of emotions: fear, anger, loneliness, regret.

“Dude,” Stiles frowns, confused, “I know Cora is your sister.”

“No.” Derek shakes his head, frantic. “The other day, at the coffee shop. I was helping her with her ex-boyfriend, I do that sometimes. He— he was an asshole and she needed help getting her cat back and I look strong and I know how to –”

“Woah, woah, slow down.” Stiles raises his hands, alarmed, and Derek realizes his own hands are shaking and he can’t breathe. “In and out,” Stiles whispers, “can I—can I touch you?”

Derek shakes his head, focusing on his breath. Panic attack, he remembers, suffocating. No touching. “Okay,” Stiles agrees, easily, “should I keep talking?” Derek shakes his head again, keeps his eyes on his hands. Talking is too much, listening is too much, breathing is too much. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Derek manages to gasp. He doesn’t want to be alone.

Stiles nods, leans against the wall next to Derek and starts fiddling with his shoelaces, twirling them around wordlessly. Derek doesn’t know how much time it passes, but he keeps watching Stiles’ fingers moving distractedly, patiently waiting for him. With him.

“I’m sorry.” Derek manages to say, eventually.

Stiles sighs. “I know.” He closes his own eyes before turning to Derek. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I—” Derek swallows heavily, “have to.” He answers, before shaking his head. No, that doesn’t sound right, “no, I—I want to.”

They leave the library together, Stiles standing up first and offering his hand to help Derek up. Stiles doesn’t let go as they walk towards Derek’s apartment, squeezes his hand from time to time as Derek tells him about everything.

“You could have told me.” Stiles notes.

“I don’t know why I didn’t.” Derek confesses. “I guess I didn’t want you to see me as that guy too. Beefy Derek.” He laughs, humorless. “That’s the nickname my sister came up with a few months ago.”

Stiles groans, stops walking, forcing Derek to stop as well. “You are so much more than that.” He assures, touching Derek’s face softly though his eyes shine with certainty. “I love your brain, your cute jokes, the fact that you get my stupid history facts because you like history just as much as I do, and especially the way you care so much. College, people, the world.” He pulls him in for a quick, assertive kiss, and Derek immediately feels so light he could fly. But he won’t, because Stiles is keeping him grounded by the softest touch, the smallest smile.

“Cute jokes?” He manages to ask, arching an eyebrow. When Stiles laughs, he smiles.

“They are.” He insists.

“Okay.” Derek accepts the words easily, because everything seems easy when it comes to Stiles. “If I ask you out on a new date,” he says, “will Lydia pepper spray me?”

“I will stop her.” Stiles reassures, squeezing his hand again. “But before,” he adds and Derek feels his stomach turning with anticipation, “you have to know that I kind of hate your sister right now.”

“Oh.” Derek says. “Okay, I can—I can see that.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Me too.” Derek agrees.

When Derek tells him about Cora’s apology and the earful his sister got from their mom, Stiles excuses himself to go laugh in the bathroom while Derek shrugs and goes back to eating his share of the pizza.

By the time they get married, Stiles and Cora have become best friends. Derek hates it (he doesn’t).

#sterek #eternalsterek #teen wolf #my fic #HELLO GUESS WHO'S BACK WITH A STEREK FIC #IT ME #surprised? me too

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wisterialagoon · 3 years

Text

For you, I'll Stay : Pt.2

Dabi is one of the top soldiers of the League of Villains. He does the dirty work and feels the stain of crime on his hands. You're an Assistant Inspector at the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, resigned to records-keeping instead of doing actual fieldwork. What happens when these two become intertwined in the most prominent political event that changed the era of 1990's Tokyo Japan?

Warnings: Violence (a girl gets beat up in this chapter), gangs, eventual smut(not in this chapter tho)

Btw, in this dabi doesn't have any scars on his face!

Azabu Gardens,

Moto-Azabu 3-7-5 Minato-ku, Tokyo 106-0046.

January 9, 1990, Tuesday.

The League

20:00 hours

The first rays of the morning began to creep into the premises of their mansion, illuminating the entirety of their eight-hectare complex. The lawn had been freshly mowed and the foyer had been polished to sparkling clean, as per the orders of their leader. It had been his first order of business during the general assembly with the entire brotherhood.

The soldiers were understandably taken aback at hearing him rattle off a list of things to do which were, in essence, house chores. From checking the car engines, laundering their clothes, and stocking up on groceries, the loyal members followed everything down to the very last detail, albeit with a little curiosity as to why they were doing this when they were supposed to be preparing for a major operation set later in the day.

Meanwhile the boss carried out everything as if it was business as usual. They had convened at their usual 10:00 am meeting at the solarium, exchanging data and intel regarding any updates on their framework's current phase. After making sure that everything was in order–from the time it would take to execute the operation to the time it would take for the police to arrive on scene, they called it a day and retired to their own rooms.

That was this morning.

Preparations were over and it was almost nearing midnight–time to start the show.

Everyone had gotten dressed in the same all-black attire, distinguished only by the formality of their suit and quality of the fabric. The leader had worn a two-piece suit, while the soldiers only had lightweight turtlenecks to pair with their slacks.

The cars were ready by the driveway, it's trunks loaded with a series of guns, masks and the deactivate system; and everyone had lined up at the foyer, at the foot of the grand staircase, awaiting the greeting and instructions of their boss.

"Good evening gentlemen," his voice didn't have that booming quality that most of his leaders had, but the clarity of his diction and richness of his timbre proved sufficient to command everyone's attention. He didn't need any of the pomp or fanfare that was usually associated with the league–his presence alone was enough.

There weren't many of them tonight, it was a small operation that needed only seven of their best men; even so, his under-boss, and the rest of his soldiers were waiting with bated breath at what he was about to say.

Finally standing by the newel post, he slowly slips on his leather gloves and begins to address their small unit.

"A rundown Kurogiri," he instructs his under-boss, with not so much as a glance spared his way.

"Today we initiate phase 2.1 of our framework," Kurogiri steps out of the line and proceeds to hand out a file on their operation and walkie-talkies to the soldiers. "Team A, Touya and Atsuhiro, will take care of the decoy. Team B, Himiko and Jin, will secure the target. Team C, Magne and Spinner, will deactivate the sensors and tip the police," he finishes, working his way back to his position beside their leader.

Tomura looks at him with a quirked eyebrow, expectant.

Kurogiri clears his throat. "Phase 2.2 of the framework will begin immediately after."

6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan.

The Takahashi Residence.

21:30 hrs.

As soon as Kurogiri parked the car in an empty lot two blocks from the site, he turned on their linked communication system and radioed to their leader that they were ready.

"Masks and Positions," Tomura instructed."Remember, one slip up will cost the entire operation."

Save for the thrumming of the engine, their leaders voice was the only thing that had cut through the nights silence.

"Yep, Tomura everyone is positioned," Kurogiri confirms, and signals to Team A that they were good to go.

As soon as they were given the signal, Touya and Atsuhiro make their way to the site, with the latter updating Tomura about their position. "Currently making my way into the Takahashi Residence along with Touya."

As they stopped to confirm that it was indeed the residence of the Minister of National Defence, their leader warns, "Keep an eye out for the security Atsuhiro," both soldiers nod their assent, replying that they located a blind spot in the houses security system and private guards.

After signalling Team B to follow, Kurogiri had set up operations control with Magne and Spinner. Just as they had gotten access into the house's security system, Tomura radios, "Kurogiri, do you copy?"

"Yes, I copy," the under-boss replies, holding the walkie-talkie in one hand and the other sifting through the nights operation file.

"Do you have a visual on the Minister and his wife?" Tomura asks.

"Yes," he turns around to look at Magne and Spinners surveillance feed, which was focused on the master bedroom.

"They're currently separated from the decoy."

"Good." Tomura affirms. "Magne, when Atsuhiro, Touya, Jin and Himiko are in place you'll override the security system, understand?"

"Understood!" the soldier nods while simultaneously preparing all the codes needed to deactivate the system.

"Once Touya and Atsuhiro take care of the decoy, that's when Himiko and Jin will go and search for the target," Tomura reminds, looking over at his copy of the operation file as well.

"Spinner, monitor all frequencies from a two-kilometre radius of the site. If anyone reports anything before we do then I want to hear it. If anyone is even in the middle of dialling a government or police number, I want to be the first to know, understood?"

"Gotcha boss," Spinner confirms. "The hacking system is ready to go, all lines within a two-kilometre radius is tapped as well."

21:42 hours.

After a preliminary entry into the estate, the four soldiers settle in their own entry points and radio back. "Spinner, we're in place, you can drop the security."

"Alright. You have a little over thirty minutes before the back-up security kicks in," the enthusiastic man programmes a few codes and counts backwards, "it's down in...5, 4, 3, 2, 1."

"Go." A deep voice follows, alerting the four soldiers on-site.

For a second, Team A and B thought it has been their leader who had addressed them, but immediately broke out into grins when the voice followed with, "Be careful in there guys."

''Don't worry, Kurogiri." Jin assures, giving Himiko, Atsuhiro and Touya a thumbs up. "We've got this"

The four soldiers discreetly jump over the deactivated sensors and immediately break into action, disarming the guards and eventually knocking them unconscious by landing considerably hard blows to their neck, causing their head to snap to the side.

After slipping past the unconscious guards, Atsuhiro and Touya pry open one of the windows, climbing in quietly while Himiko and Jin wait outside.

Team A immediately proceeds to the target's room, bolting the maid's quarters from the outside after unfortunately having to knock her out as well.

The two check their copy of the house's floor plan, with Touya sending a glance to Atsuhiro before slowly opening the door into one of the mansion's bedrooms.

In the room sat 18-year old Takahashi Yua. with her back facing Atsuhiro and Touya slowly the boys made their way to her and in mere seconds Atsuhiro had his hands over Yua's mouth and held her in place.

The shocked girl could do nothing but try to thrash around and scream for help but Touya tied her hands and gagged her.

Touya then raised a fist, about to hit the girl before he was quickly stopped by Atsuhiro "Dabi, not here, let's take it outside. "

Nodding in agreement, Touya helped Atsuhiro drag the silently sobbing girl back outside from where they came from, leading to the back of the house and into the garage.

Seeing Touya and Atsuhiro leave with Yua allowed Himiko and Jin to make their way inside and find their operations primary objective, leaving Team A to deal with the girl.

"Compress, take off the gag," Touya instructed, to which Atsuhiro nodded and quickly removed the bundle of cloth that had been choking the girl.

As soon as it had been done, Touya struck her across the cheek with a force that pushed her backwards. It was a strong enough blow to leave an angry bruise but not enough to knock her out completely.

After taking stock of her figure-from her laboured breathing to her split lower lip, he delivers a few more punches to her torso and a last strike across her face. All the while, Atsuhiro hands had snaked around her arms. keeping her in place.

Finally, Touya pulled out a handkerchief that had been previously doused in ether.

He pressed it firmly to her mouth and nose. forcing her to inhale the substance which quickly knocked her out.

"Hey, you guys done in here?" Himiko skipped into the parking lot, "We've got the stuff."

"Yeah," Touya pockets the handkerchief and watches as Yua unceremoniously slumps to the floor with a dull thud.

"We're done." he drags her body to the main entrance of the parking lot, ensuring that she would be the first thing to be seen by anyone coming through the garage's main door.

"You're too brutish Touya." Atsuhiro grimaces at the bruised girl crumpled in the corner.

"Whatever, someone make the signal, we're done here." Touya gets up to leave.

6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan.

The Takahashi Residence.

23:00 hrs.

"Magne. I got a call from the other guys." their leader radios from where he was keeping sentinel of the entire operation.

"They're all clear, make the call."

"Got it boss, making the call now."

Magne dials the number on a burner phone expecting the line to ring a couple of times before anyone answers, as expected, on the fifth ring, a woman's voice breaks through the radio silence.

"SMPA, what is your concern?" her voice was clear. but slightly unstable. when she doesn't give her a reply, she repeats her question, louder this time.

"Kidnapping" she says, evenly distributing the stress on each syllable to feign monotony. "23:00, 6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan. Takahashi Yua." Magne states calmly, while she hears rapid scribbling on the other end.

Here come the textbook reactions she thinks to herself, amused.

"who is this? Where is your intel from?" she asks, an undertone of panic lacing her voice. "Hello?" she follows up when Magne

doesn't reply—to which she settles for perching the receiver directly over his mouth to make sure it picks up her heavy breathing.

Magne waited a few moments before ﬁnally hanging up.

She radios to their leader. "Alright, the phone call is done the officer will be calling for backup soon."

After checking his watch, Tomura smirks at their record. "Keigo, you ready to receive that request for backup?" Tomura asks through his walkie-talkie.

"Yeah, on patrol near the area so I should be getting that on my frequency." he affirms, shifting to a more comfortable position on the drivers seat he had convinced his partner in advance to take a leave for their shift that night, so as to ensure that he would be able to carry out his part in the operation without any hiccups.

"I'll be first on the scene when the request for backup is made."

6 Chome-10-1 Roppongi, Minato City, Tokyo 106-6108, Japan.

The Takahashi Residence.

2:40 hours.

"Don't worry Ma'am, we'll find out who did this to your

daughter." Keigo assured the Ministers wife, pure concern ﬂawlessly depicted in his facial expression. "We've done a preliminary search of the crime scene, we'll come back with updates as soon as we find anything conclusive."

"You had better catch that criminal, I want him in jail, my daughter is lying unconscious in a hospital!" she demands, hands coming up to cover her face as her body was enveloped in a series of sobs.

Keigo gave a curt nod and comforting pat to the woman's shoulder before turning around and getting back into his car to leave.

As he pulled out of the driveway, he immediately drove to a remote alley in the outskirts of the district, once he was assured that his location wouldn't be found, he made a call.

"Hello? Keigo?" their leader answered. ''What's your status?"

"Shigaraki, I just got back from the crime scene." he says, turning the police radio down and killing the car's engine.

"And?" their leader asks, undoubtedly expectant of his answer.

Keigo knew that his cover was especially pivotal for that night's operation—and that Tomura had made it clear with no uncertain terms that the success of this phase relied on his ability to herd the police where they wanted them to.

"The family doesn't suspect a thing They believe it was an attempted kidnapping" he says, waiting for their leader's response.

After a beat, their leader simply hums in affirmation and hangs up, It wasn't much—he knew that Tomura had always been a man of few words, but he also knew that he always meant whatever he said, with that in mind, he restarted the car and proceeded to drive back to their residence.

Azabu Gardens,

Moto-Azabu 3-7-5 Minato-ku, Tokyo 106-0046.

January 9, 1990, Tuesday.

The League

03:00 hours.

He had stopped at the driveway, feeling no need to actually park his car since he was sure he'd be back at the station soon enough. Besides, he needed to speak with their leader immediately.

He had successfully crossed the foyer and was about to go up

the stairs when a familiar voice calls out to him "Keigoo, you're back!" The youngest member of their group, Himiko, approaches him, grinning.

"How'd it go?"

"Went well." he shrugs off his coat, and hangs his police hat over the coat stand. "Only one problem though, can you go get Shigaraki? We need to have a group meeting"

After a few minutes, everyone who had worked on the operation had gathered at their usual dining hall, with each finding their own seat at the round table.

"Everything went well with the family." After everyone had settled in, Keigo began immediately, fingers interlaced over the single file folder resting in front of him.

"But one of my subordinates is a little too close for comfort." Keigo states, instantly gaining the others' attention.

"What's his name?" Shigaraki questioned.

"Actually, it's a woman." he opens the folder, and pulls out a headshot photo.

"Her name is Miyasaki Y/N, she's the Assistant Inspector."

"A woman cop?" Touya reached for the photo then let out a snort at the subtle smile and short haircut she sported.

"So there's no problem then?" he chuckled, throwing the photo across the table for the others to see, clearly uninterested.

"Shut up Touya, you could probably get your ass kicked by this girl." Himiko quipped, earning a sharp glare from the other boy.

"I swear to god you psycho bitch, I'm gonna—" he shifts in his seat, calling out the girl, knowing full well that the mean name would provoke her.

Just as he was about to continue to prove that no girl could possibly kick his ass, he's thoroughly cut off.

"stop bickering this is serious." Keigo interrupted. "Girl cop or not, she's a threat." he declares.

He looks at them one by one and rests a brief glance at Tomura, their leader nods at him to continue. Keigo sighs, aware that he has to set the context for the rest of the group.

He had been given this role by Tomura directly so not everyone knew just what he was doing at the station or just how important his role was in their whole framework.

"she wasn't supposed to be the one who would get the police tip."

Keigo expels a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut.

"It was supposed to be her direct senior, the only other female Inspector in the agency, she usually does overtime with Miyasaki, but she changed her schedule tonight. I don't know why." again, Keigo sighs. This time, he's slouched on the dining chair, gently massaging the bridge of his nose.

The silence that follows only aggravated his frustration with himself.

He had been counting on Usagiyama Rumi, the agency's female Inspector, who he had been assigned to follow for the past few weeks.

She had the same routine ever since he "started" at the agency—time in at 7:00 am, attend meetings and facilitate cold opens throughout the day, follow-up on interrogations or meet victim's relatives and finally, time-out at midnight.

He wasn't counting on this assistant Inspector, she was an outlier, he didn't pay much attention to her other than the times that they'd cross paths at the cafeteria or when they'd get things from their adjacent locker units. He was working in the patrol and public safety unit, she was busy with comms and records-keeping.

Nonetheless, he did know everyone's business in the agency—even if he wasn't exactly tailing each and every one of them.

He knows the case assignments, he knows who had called in late and he knows why and he even knows how their chief liked his coffee down to the number of espresso shots and percentage of sugar.

"This girl is relentless." He presses on. "I've observed her at the agency—she dedicates herself to everything she does, it's borderline obsessive, even if it is something small and unimportant" he adds the latter as an afterthought, suddenly aware of all those times she stayed overtime.

"I don't like the idea of someone like that sniffing around where we don't want them to."

On his own, he just concluded that she did overtime because she wanted to kiss ass—especially given the kind of rumours going on about her, but it only dawned on him now that perhaps she was more dedicated to the job than others painted her out to be.

"Keigo's right." Kurogiri chimed in. "We should do something about her."

Silence fell for a beat, until it stretched on for a few minutes.

Everyone had exchanged glances, they knew that after Kurogiri, their leader had to have the final say.

"I agree," finally Tomura declares.

He stands up and proceeds to stand by the French window, parting open the satin drapes.

"It's time for modiﬁcations before starting phase 2.2."

"Find out why Usagiyama broke her routine. Enlist the others' help on this if you need more hands on comms." Tomura spares a glance at Magne and Spinner, at which the two people reply with nods.

"As for this new player..." their leader trails off, returning back to look at their garden and the approaching dawn.

Expectant, Keigo awaits his next orders. "I want you to keep an eye on her at the station. make sure she stays out of the way, try and befriend her if anything, I need you to throw her off our scent, okay?"

"Got it." the undercover member nods, rising from his seat.

The others follow suit, but Tomura gives follow-up instructions that stops them where they stood.

"Kurogiri, take over my 10:00 today." he announces, immediately piquing everyone's interest "Take Himiko and Jin, you'll need the extra eyes for surveillance."

After the three echo their assent, Tomura clears them, including Keigo, to leave, He adds a few reminders for Magne and Spinner to follow-up on their contracts with their current suppliers, experts and other assets before ﬁnally dismissing the two of them as well as Atsuhiro.

singled out, Touya stands by the doorway, intrigued.

"Dabi," he calls Touya by his alias, turning around to face him he then closes the distance between the two of them within five quick strides.

"I want you to pay a visit to that poor girl, make sure she's on bed rest," his voice strong and amplified by the domed ceiling and marble flooring. Touya nods. "I'll see which hospital admitted her," and moves to leave the room.

Not missing a beat. Tomura places a hand over his shoulder just as he was in the process of doing an about-turn.

"I wasn't referring to Miss. Yua.

83 notes · View notes

burntmcnuggies · 4 years

Text

Effectively Trained (1/2)

Yandere! Hawks x Reader

Warning: this story contains non-consensual touching, forced sex, mentions of serious harm and abuse, kidnapping, and excessive use of strong language! 18+ only please <3

Part Two

“He does things his own way and has climbed the ranks with lightening fast speed! In the number two spot! Winged Hero: Hawks!”

The crowd erupted in applause as the red suites hero approached the stage to stand beside his fellow heroes. The smell of delicious food, and expensive champagne filled the sensitive mans nose. As for having a bird-like quirk, the blonde had a very keen sense of smell and sight. The only thing he was focused on at the moment was the young woman sitting by herself at the table reserved for him and the other top three heroes. Her skinny arms were raised in a small quiet clap to appraise him. He smirked to himself and put his hands behind his neck, flaunting his vibrant red wings out to make himself stand out. It was impossible to miss his presence due to his powerful quirk. The announcer finished introducing the top 5 heroes supporting the charity event Hawks was currently at. Once the heroes were dismissed, he rose to the air and made a straight B-line for the woman at the table.

“Hey dove.” He called out to her, making the beautiful young woman flinch harshly and jerk around to greet him. He landed softly in front of her while people stared in awe at his large wings and glowing aura. This was the popularity of one of the top 3 heroes. He opened his arms, initiating a hug, but before he even got his arms up, she was already in his arms hugging him. His honey-colored eyes glistened and glowed with an unknown emotion. His strong arms wrapped around her, his hot breath ghosting over her ear. “Good girl. I’m proud of you.” His husky voice was suggestive and poisoned with lust. The girl in his arms shook slightly, slowly nodded her head in acknowledgment to his words. When he pulled away, his pupils constricted once he laid eyes upon a couple people staring. “Let’s go somewhere more private. So I can reward you properly.”

His voice was no longer warm and goofy. It was cold and harsh, demanding the woman in his arms to come with him immediately. She clung to his order and quickly latched onto his arm. His pupils dilated back to their normal size and he grinned cheekily walking through the crowd. “Leaving already Hawks? It’s barely just begun.” The number two hero stopped in his tracks hearing the voice of the man he admired every since he saved him. He turned his head around, the diamond studs in his ears sparkling under the bright lights. “Ah, Endeavor!” Hawks turned around and moved his hand down to tightly hold the mysterious woman by the waist. She kept her head down in Endeavors presence. The Flame hero was a clever man, and immediately, he could tell there was something odd about their relationship. “Oh! Endeavor! I’d like to introduce you to my beautiful dove, (Y/N).”

It was quick, but the woman’s head jerked up quickly, and her panicked (E/C) eyes could’ve been perceived as embarrassment, but Endeavor could clearly tell it was not that. It was fear. ‘There’s something off about her. Is it me?’ “I-It’s nice to meet you... M-Mr. Todoroki. H-Hawks is a huge fan. I-I really admire your work too... you’re a v-very respectable hero...” The red-haired man came to the conclusion that she was just shy. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Hawks carelessly flopped his arm around his lovers shoulder, tightly squeezing it with all the force he could. The woman now known as (Y/N) flinched feeling his tight grip. “I-I’m sorry! Please excuse me! I’m going to get some drinks! I-I’ll bring you some Hawks!” In the blink of an eye she was gone through the crowd, rushing towards the refreshment table. A sharp barbed feather glided across the floor unseen and jabbed into the frightened girls leg. Luckily, her dress covered it and her hair was down to cover up the frightened and pained face she was making.

“A good one isn’t she? Sorry about that! She’s a bit shy! She only likes me! That’s why we’re trynna leave so soon! I thought I’d make an appearance and earn some money for whatever this is for and head home!” Hawks boasted and flexed his wings a bit, showing off his alpha-like nature. Endeavor hummed in suspicion, looking for the girl to come back. This didn’t help the growing possessiveness inside the number two hero. His wings fluffed up wildly and his pupils contricted sharply in a threatening manner. He could feel the warm blood running down his unattached barbed feather, making his legs quiver. What a lovely feeling. “What’s with the look man? Don’t think I can land such a hottie? I’ll have you know I’ve been with plenty of smokin’ chicks. And not chickens!” His fake cheerful laugh interrupted Endeavor’s thoughts. He scowled a bit. “How exactly did you two meet? I’ve never seen her with you at one of these things.”

“We’ve been dating for about a year now. We met at my agency actually. She was looking for a job. Later I courted her and told her I would work and she wouldn’t ever have to raise a hand in the work force again!” Endeavor narrowed his eyes. ‘There’s no way anyone would willingly want to stay cooped up inside a house the whole time... he’s hiding something. It’s unlike him to be so defensive.’ Just in time, (Y/N) returned and handed Hawks his drink, lowering her head once again, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. Endeavor huffed and offered his hand out for her to take, a test of some sorts. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you.” The girl refused to take his hand. She kept her head lowered and clung herself to Hawks. Usually, Hawks would just laugh and make a joke for her not to be scared, but Endeavor was surprised to see Hawks holding her tightly and looking at her blankly. ‘Something’s off.’

“We’re going to head home then.” Hawks spoke suddenly, rubbing his lovers back with a small sincere smile. He downed the expensive champagne and set it on a random table. He kissed her head and moved his wings to block her from anyone else’s view. A crimson feather came from the floor and reattached to his large set of feathered wings. Unnoticed by everyone. “I don’t want to make my beautiful angel uncomfortable. See ya later Endeavor! Let’s go out sometime for some Yakitori soon! Okay?” He ushered her quickly away from the scene where the number one hero just stood there. He watched them go, his gut demanding him to follow them, that something was off, that something sinister was right in front of him. It couldn’t possibly be Hawks.

‘I’m probably just imagining things. But next time we meet, I’ll definitely get to the bottom of whatever is going on.’

——

*Click*

“I’m proud of you, dove. You did so well tonight.” Hawks praised his lover once they reached the security of his top level pent house suite. His eyes seemed to glow in the dim light cascading over the room from the moon. His hands twitched in anticipation seeing his beautiful angel standing before him, now completely undressed, patiently waiting for his orders. “I would like to reward you, buuuuut you got a bit too talkitive with Endeavor back there... guess I gotta punish you just a little.” It was quick, but the winged hero harshly pushed against the back of her knees and made her kneel harshly in front of him. His ungloved hand made contact with her hair, entangling his rough fingers within and yanking upwards harshly, forcing the terrified girl to look at him. “You should only say stuff like that to me. ME. Got it?”

She nodded frantically, tears building within her large (E/C) eyes. Flurries of apologies burst through her lips and onto his deaf ears. He thought actions spoke louder than words. Her next actions would determine if the punishment needed to go further or not. Over the past year, it had been his goal to break her mind into being his obedient little pet. He had taken her out to his office only a couple times, but when she ran and pleaded for help from one of his sidekicks, his “training” became more intense. The pain became too much for her malnourished and fragile body to handle. Her mind slowly began to crack. “You know I don’t accept apologies that way my beautiful dove. Use that mouth for something else other than talking.” She knew what he was implying, and hastily began to unbuckle his belt.

His training paid off. He was in complete and total control over this woman. HIS woman. His lips spread into a sadistic grin and he let out a throaty chuckle, sighing in pure amazement at how well he had done. “Look at you, desperately wanting to suck my cock for my forgiveness. I’ve trained you quite well haven’t I angel?” He pulled back a little bit to plop on the couch, watching with lustful eyes as the woman of his dreams quickly followed after him on her knees and got between his legs. She nodded anxiously and fearfully, worried that if she took too long to respond, he would go through another “training” session with her. “Hmm... hey... remind me again what I did last time to make you mind so easily. I tried out a bunch of different methods than last time. I just wanna know... what works best for you angel.”

He reached down and grabbed her hands to stop her from continuing, waiting for her answer to his question. He already knew the answer, he was only testing to see if she remembered what punishment he gave her last time she went against the rules. “You uhm...” She stuttered, trying her hardest to remember the punishment she was given last time. Over the year, he had given her hundreds of punishments, and over 50 “training” sessions. There was a large difference between Hawks’ punishments and training sessions. Punishments would only last a little while, maybe a few hours. But training sessions lasted days, even weeks. She had to remember all of the rules he had set in place for her, or else she would be punished and go through the same session again and again until she never forgot.

Rule 1. Always love Hawks

Rule 2. Always support Hawks

Rule 3. Hawks is your favorite hero

Rule 4. Always listen to Hawks

Rule 5. Hawks loves you

Rule 6. Hawks will always protect you

Rule 7. No talking back to Hawks

Rule 8. Don’t look at anyone besides Hawks

Rule 9. Hawks knows what’s best for you

Rule 10. Don’t think of anyone besides Hawks

Rule 11. Don’t talk to anyone besides Hawks

Rule 12. Always comfort Hawks

Rule 13. No make up

Rule 14. Don’t smile at anyone besides Hawks

Rule 15. Only leave the house WITH Hawks

Rule 16. Tell Hawks “I love you” every day

Rule 17. Call Hawks if someone touches you.

And the list went on, and on, and on, and on. The rules were hammered into her brain for days. Morning time, Hawks would take his feathers and penetrate the skin on her back, making her repeat the rules every time a feather pierced her now scarred skin. Then make her repeat it again when he pulled them out. While she was home alone, he tasked her with writing down the rule over 100 times to make sure she got it. Then we he came home, he would review her work, demand her to tell him the rule, and depending on that, he may let her eat and sleep. Everyone looked at Hawks as the friendly, carefree, boisterous, and fun pro-hero. However, (Y/N) knew the dark side of him. The possessive side of him that refused to let her go, let her speak to anyone else but him, anything really. Everything had to be him.

She snapped out of her gruesome thoughts of her last training session and shakily looked back up to see Hawks patiently waiting for her answer. “You... p-put your feather... through m-my tongue... b-because I s-said... I felt b-bad for... B-Best J-Jeanist...” He nodded and scratched the stubble on his chin. His lower lip stuck out and he smirked. “Ah! Now I remember perfectly... the taste of your blood when I kissed you felt so good. Should I do it again? I’m feeling pretty punishy today.” (Y/N)‘s face drained color immediately and she hastily began to unbuckle Hawks’s belt, hopeful he would forgive her.

Rule 41. Blow Jobs for forgiveness.

“Looks like I burned that rule right into that pretty head of yours huh? They always say I’m too fast for my own good... what do you think dove?” His sinister yet carefree grin unnerved her and she shivered harshly under his gaze. She didn’t know how to respond. After being with him for a year, she was still wary of his mood swings. He could be so friendly and nonchalant the first minute and the next he’s cruel and cold. What answer was best? “I.... I think you’re perfect just the way you are Hawks... fast or not... y-you are... perfect.” That was a good answer. She inwardly applauded herself for coming up with such a great answer. Hopefully he would punish her less right? “Perfect huh? You always know how to make my heart flutter don’t cha dove? But I’m not letting you off that easily.”

Her body stiffened.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you behave around me. It’s quite suspicious. Even Endeavor back there was gettin’ a little too curious about our relationship.” Her hands halted, his pants now loosely hanging from his hips, his arousal clearly evident by the bulge in his grey boxers and the slight stain from his sticky pre-cum. She regretted the moment she looked up to look into his golden eyes. His pupils were slit, and he wore a grin, a crazily sinister glint within those once warm eyes. “It’s startin’ to piss me off a bit ya know? It hurts my feelings my baby bird isn’t being honest with me. After everything I’ve done?” He laughed and spread his large wings out, towering over her and blocking her only heavenly source of light. Her gaze was locked on the only thing she could see.

Those horrific glimmering eyes of his.

“No I want you to be honest and tell me everything you’re feeling right now.” Suddenly, a hand forced its way onto her throat. The unexpected movement knocked the breath from her lungs, and the restricted force placed around her windpipe only made it harder. Her mouth shakily began to open, but closed immediately, fresh hot and salty tears already beginning to stream down her already dampened cheeks. “What? Don’t wanna be honest with me baby? I thought you would’ve remembered that rule...” He pouted in disapproval. In a sudden flurry of panic and fear, she pushed his hand away, stunning him into silence as she recited the rule. “Rule 21! Always be honest! Rule 6! Hawks will always protect me! A-And rule 5! Hawks will always love me! Rule 27! Everything Hawks does is for me! And I’m always grateful! Rule-“

“Woah there tiger! Didn’t need ya to tell me every little thing. But I’m glad you remember so much. I’m honestly impressed.” His wings retreated against his back, and he raised his bare hands up to softly pet her hair. His precious dove lowered her head slowly, accepting his praise silently. “But you still aren’t being honest with me. I want you to tell me how scared I make you. How you’re so scared about what I might do that you’ll never leave. That you’ll always be beside me!” His voice was getting desperate, and the way his ash blonde eyebrows furrowed showed her his frustration was seeping through. She shakily exhaled, heart pounding harshly against her chest. “I... u-understand... your want to k-keep me here... you’re... l-lonely... and mentally exhausted... I... love you Keigo... I just... don’t... like how... you hurt me... that... terrifies me.”

His pupils shrunk hearing his first name come from her lips. He searched deeply for any lingering signs of dishonesty, but found none. What she said was genuine. She was scared of being hurt by him, but knew deep down how fucked up his life had been despite being such a popular hero. Having to play double agent, keep up two different personas and stress about not getting found out by the other organization. “...Rule 5.” He said sternly. His voice was cold and void of emotion, which was strange and unnatural for the usually bubbly winged-hero. Blonde bangs covered his honey colored eyes, hiding the truth from her. (Y/N) flinched and quickly recited the rule. “Rule 5... H-Hawks will always love me.” A smirk stretched across his face, and he raised his head up, his eyes shimmering with possessiveness and greed. A red glint shined within those bird-like eyes, and he grabbed her hands, placing them on his hips again. “Please me. Pleasure the fuck out of me dove. Do good... and I might let you go out tomorrow —with a feather of course.”

All of a sudden her mood lifted, and she smiled widely at his proposal. “R-Really? Y-You mean it Keigo...?” He gave her a lopsided grin and nodded his head confidently. His wings spread while he laid back against the sofa, comfortably adjusting himself so he could get a perfect view of his little lover. His avian eyes watched carefully as her delicate hands moved over his pants, pulling them down just a bit. The large H on his belt hung loosely to the side, making the belt a bit heavy. Hawks deployed his feathers to make his wings smaller and slipped his jacket off, only being left in his tight fitting shirt with gold accent lines and a diamond. His wings came back to life quickly, slightly fluttered as he got them reattached. “Your... wings are very... large and b-beautiful.”

“They’re all for you baby bird.” He commented flirtatiously. His eyelashes were exceptionally long, and those dark markings near his eyes made his eyes only pop and glow in the moonlight. His large wings created long and intimidating shadows, shaking up his forced lover. She shook her head quickly and focused her attention back on the task at hand. Her cool fingers slid across the fabric of his boxers, a heavy blush settling on her face. She leaned closer to his hips, her (H/C) hair falling to rest against the top of his clothed thighs. (E/C) eyes looking up innocently to see what reaction his smooth face held. He was watching intently, his stern eyes demanding her to continue. Her throat bobbed slowly and she gently pulled down his boxers, clenching his loose pants in embarrassment watching his arousal slap against his abdomen.

“Ahh... come on baby, don’t tease me like this. Hurry up and swallow my worm birdie.” He cooed, throwing a very gross sounding bird pun in. A shiver crawls up her spine sharply, her brain finally taking back control of her fingers. The smooth skin of her fingers folded over his steamy cock, running along the vien on his underside. In the background she saw his bare hands clenching the cushions of the couch tightly, his forearm stiff. He was restraining himself, and clearly it wasn’t working too well if he had to go through all that. “Stop. Fucking teasing me.” He ordered in a raspy hoarse voice, struggling to even get a sentence out. His cock twitched in her smooth hands, aching and throbbing, begging to be touched and engulfed by something warm and tight.

(Y/N) closed her eyes and leaned forwards, pressing her lips gently against the head, before her tongue slid over the vein and she took him into her mouth. “Hah... fuck, deeper.” The hand previously on the couch came to tangle into her once beautifully curled hair. His reluctant lover flinched and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, letting his hand guide her. His nails dug into her scalp, some of her hair being pulled out by the roots at his strong grip. There was a very arousing wet sound bursting into both their ears from the activity both adults engaged in. The pro hero had his head on the back cushions, panting heavily with his wings tightly folded against his back occasionally twitching and shivering. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yeah... just like that dove. Hah fuck, your mouth is so damn amazing! Haha! You can take me all in can’t ya? Argh... only one way to find out right?”

The girls eyes widened in horror and the hero slammed his impressive length down her throat, his strong hands pushing on her head as hard as he could. “Ugh! I feel yer teeth! Open that beautiful mouth wider for me dove!” Her mouth was at its limit. Her jaw was aching, her throat being stretched, her nose buried within the curly mess of musky smelling hair near his V-line. Her eyes burned with tears, head throbbing, pussy dripping with fluids, her lungs clawing at any ounce of oxygen they could find. She was incredibly lucky she got over her gag reflex early on into their “relationship.” He jerked her head back, her nostrils stretching to catch even a small amount of air to satisfy her lungs, only to be slammed back down repeatedly. “Didn’t- Ngh!- know you could go this deep! Fuck! Haha, you’re gonna make me c-cum soon~”

His calloused hands from years of hard work shoved her head back and forth wildly, refusing to stop his relentless face-fucking. His movements increased, and his panting and moaning had only gotten louder. “Ahh~ hah! Yeah baby! Come on!” He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and growled out lustfully. His husky voice shamefully making his baby bird’s love parts ooze with arousal. His keen nose could smell it from a mile away. Suddenly a soft feather came under the woman on her knees, harshly rubbing against her sensitive clit. Two more came to push against her nipples with the softer part of the feathers. “That’s it b-baby! Ahh yeah you dirty little slut~ getting wet while sucking me off~ haha! Agh... yeah... lemme know when you’re close, I-I wanna cum in that pretty pink damn pussy. And it’s all mine. Ohh... it’s all mine.”

His low husky growls only made the sensations better. (Y/N) was now struggling to maintain the fast pace he forced on her. The adrenaline pumping through her veins with the only thought in her mind was not getting hurt, she pushed through. “Haha! Ohh~ you’re mine. Fucking mine...” He growled through grit teeth, his avian eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into the mouth of the woman of his dreams. His eyes traveled just a bit south and caught a glimpse of his soft red feathers harshly grinding against her nipples, making her squirm in discomfort and desperation. “Nghh~ haha! Fuck! Fuck baby bird~ my cute dove~ my god damn angel... I’m gonna fucking cum. Hurry, hurry get on the couch.”

In a flash he shoved her head back, not even giving her a second to even breath before hoisting her up and slamming her down on the couch. His rough hands found her legs quickly, spreading them apart and getting between them. He hastily grabbed his hard cock and immediately shoved it inside her aching and unprepared womanhood. A flash of white hot pain shook her whole body. Her fingers were tingling and the breath was knocked from her lungs. He was a monster. Relentlessly moving himself in and out of her like she was some kind of toy. His play thing he could bend, break, use, and throw away whenever he pleased. But she was his favorite toy, his most prized possession. No matter how broken, or bent, or lost, it was his.

And he would kill anyone if he ever lost his precious treasure.

“Haha! Ohhh... oh, yeah. It’s been a while huh baby bird? You okay dove? You can take my cock soooo good can’t you~? Right?” His flirtatious groans echoed in the large space of his penthouse living room. His wings spread widely, fluttering slightly at all of the lewd attention his sweet sweet cock was getting. Squeezed so firmly by unprepared walls of squishy muscle, enveloped in a warm and comforting feeling of love. He couldn’t have been any happier at that moment. His lover on the other hand, “Y-Yes H-Hawks!” Her mouth was left hanging open, her eyebrows scrunched together tightly in pain. Her cheeks were painted with salty streaks that cascaded to her chin and left drops on the couch.

“No... hah, no Hawks. Say my name. My name that o-only you know.” He was setting her up to make himself lose control. They both knew that whenever (Y/N) would say Hawks’ real name, the bird-quirked hero would lose control and turn into a complete animal. The girl underneath the presumed hero could only sob in pain and fear, conflicted on what to do. Have her captor cum inside of her and possibly force her not to take plan B, or be brutally hurt for disobeying his orders. On the slim chance Hawks would let her take the pill afterwards, she succumbed. “K-Keigo! Keigo! Kei! Kei! Kei-.. g-go!!!”

“FUCK DOVE! Yeah say it more! Goddamnit! Fucking say my name! You’re m-mine! Ahh hah! My pretty bird! A-All... mine...” His large hands slid over her slim waist, malnourished from his constant punishments and paranoia if she gained too much strength she would attempt to rebel against him like she did when she first got here. She began to chant his name desperately, almost screaming at the top of her lungs to satisfy him. “Rule 5, 1, and 19. Say them.” He demanded, not faltering in his movements. His fierce golden eyes stared upon her, watching intently as he made her cute breasts bounce. Her body being shoved back and forth aggressively to satisfy his burning hunger. “Hawks will a-always love me!” She sobbed out, struggling to even get a sentence out. She opened her blurry eyes to look at him, biting her lip harshly to stop crying. “I-I will always love Hawks! And we will do a-anything for each o-other!! Keigo please! Please!”

“Good girl! Fuck! I’m gonna cum dove!” His screwed up mind perceived her pleas as a sign for him to push her over and make her reach her euphoric orgasm. In reality, she was begging for him to stop. Stop his assault, stop his forceful touches. She could practically feel her body shutting down. Her heart and mind mentally checking out. Her emotions become hard and stone-like. Death would be better then spending another second with this man above her. She flinched feeling something warm flood about inside of her, ears barely picking up on the breathy gasp that came from the number two hero as he finished himself off. Her mind began to wander back to how all this even came to be.

So naive.

So stupid.

So blind to the true nature of the number two hero, Hawks.

Her eyes slowly fluttered closed, feigning being asleep in hopes she could escape to another world. Alas, that world faded the moment he opened his mouth and took away all her concentration. “Wore out already, huh? Guess I need to feed ya more, dove.” She was lifted into the strong hero’s arms, carried carefully back to his bedroom like she was the most fragile thing in the world. She knew of the pro hero’s past, how lonely he was. Even though she hated him to the core for everything he’s done to her, she couldn’t help but pity him. “But you know I can’t feed you too much or you’ll try to leave me again. You remember, baby?”

No response.

He sighed blissfully and leaned close to her, gently brushing her hair out of the way and listening to her soft breathing. “So fucking beautiful. You still manage to take my breath away. I trained you quite nicely. You behave so well... I couldn’t ask for a better girl. Although... when I first saw you I knew you had to be mine.” She tensed under his calloused fingers smoothing over her face. He knew she was awake. He wasn’t an idiot. “Rest baby bird. My sweet... sweet fucking dove. You mean the world to me. And I would kill. Anyone. That would try to take you away from me.” He smirked and pressed a kiss to her head. She slowly opened her eyes to look at him, seeing his warm smile full of genuine love. “Your eyes are so beautiful, (Y/N). Everything about you I love but your eyes... they’re your most beautiful feature.”

“...thank you, Keigo.” She whispered. He chuckled and crawled into bed beside her, pulling her body close to his. Large red wings spread widely, slowly coming down to cover them both as protection, and reassurance that his precious angel wouldn’t escape. She moved close to his chest, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into his bare chest. “Rest. You’ve got a busy day tomorrow, going out on your own without me. You must be excited.” He always gave her these fishy questions. It was like he was testing her to examine her commitment to him. She swallowed a little and smiled. “A-A little... I’m g-going to buy groceries, ch-chicken, your coffee... a-and some p-plan-B...”

“Still weary of barring my chicks? That’s alright. It’ll all change soon dove. Once I achieve my dream, I’ll take you far away, start our family, and marry you.” He smirked down at her sleepy state. His large hands combing through her soft (H/C) hair. ‘Maybe we can start over, and you can love me without being forced.’ He thought to himself. I’m honesty, he disliked hurting her, but he couldn’t control his rage sometimes. In his childhood, all he had was an Endeavor toy. His favorite toy. Now he had (Y/N), and she was his new favorite toy, his treasure really. He needed to hold on with a death grip and not let her go. Not let go of the only good thing going for him at the moment. “That sounds n-nice... I-I’m sorry I’m v-very tired... g-goodnight Keigo... I-I love you.”

“I love you too.” He kisses her head. “Just don’t forget the rules while you’re out.”

#my hero academia #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo #hawksbnha #hawks x reader #hawks smut #yandere hawks #bnha hawks

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kpopmalereader · 3 years

Text

a friend, pt.2 ; ten

pt.1

• summary: a friend, pt.2 • pairing: ten x male!reader • word count: 2620 • to do

Lucas brushes his teeth, leaning one hand on your bathroom counter. You sit on your floor beside the door, throwing a bouncy ball, letting it bounce aimlessly and fly back at you.

“I don’t think anything’s going to change,” Lucas speaks around his toothbrush.

“It already has!” You throw the ball harder and bump your head against the wall. “We’re still friends, technically, but,” You sigh and stand. “He’s awkward and doesn’t talk to me as much. Before this, any time anyone mentioned they were going somewhere, he would ask me if I wanted to go too, but he hasn’t done that since I told him.”

Lucas wants to object but can’t speak before you continue.

“He made plans for me to record more of his dances, but suddenly he had someone else to do it and didn’t need me.” You shake your head. Lucas watches you walk, but you ignore the concerned “you’re acting stupid” look he gives you and walk back into your room. “I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

Lucas washes his mouth out and leans against the sink. He breathes in and out for a few seconds, going through a hundred possibilities of what he could say or do to make you feel better, to make the whole situation better.

Since you got in the car after the mall with that distant look, Lucas knew what happened. Guilt has been trickling through him since that day. It gets even worse when you have moments like this. Moments where you wish nothing more than for everything to go back to the way it was. He pushed you to share your feelings. He told you it was worth it.

He thought it was worth it. There was a part of him, and he’s more than sure there was a part of you that thought Ten might have feelings for you.

“And it’s not like I just told him I liked him.” You continue a conversation Lucas didn’t know you were having. You’re waving a French fry around. “I confessed tons of feelings. The way he made me feel and everything I liked about him. Everything.”

Lucas makes eye contact with you, and you snap your jaw down on the fry you’re holding.

“Add even more embarrassment on getting rejected and half-losing a very close friend.” You lift your eyebrows. “How fun.”

He smiles at you and shakes his head. “Let’s go do something, instead of sticking around here talking about this. We can go for a walk, or shopping, arcade, the movies.”

You nod. You’re trying to give it a chance. “Maybe.”

Lucas points at you. “Or, we can go out to a party-”

“Movies.” You nod your head. “That sounds perfect.”

“Hey, a party would be a good way to get distracted by other cute guys.”

“We can go watch a movie that has nothing to do with guys.” You offer. “I’ll start looking.”

After you eat, you choose whatever animated movie looks most exciting and head to the movie theater. Lucas pays for the tickets and the snacks, getting you a large drink and an even larger popcorn. You pick out two boxes of candies, and as you contemplate which one to buy, Lucas places both on the counter, grabbing another one of your favorites. He smiles at you, ignoring your protests, and picks out his candy.

After spending too much money on food right after lunch, you head to the screen room. Lucas lets you pick out a spot you think is perfect. (Even if he disagrees with the choice, you choose the last row, he was always fond of the middle.)

For two hours, your mind is entirely devoid of any thoughts about Ten. The movie ends. You look at each other and begin to laugh. The anthropomorphized characters and their lives have brought both of you close to tears.

You gather the leftover candy and the trash. You and Lucas walk out of the theater, ranting and raving about the movie’s aesthetic and the different theories you have for the characters. You head into the mall next to the movie theater, still talking animatedly about the characters you connected with and the scenes you liked more than anything.

The doors glide open and reveal an almost full food court that you have to traverse, avoiding large groups and the urge to get pretzel bites even when you just had a large bucket of popcorn and 2½ bags of candy.

You pass by a music shop, the records lining the walls catch your eye, and you open your mouth to ask Lucas if he wants to stop. From the corner of your eye, you can see his face fall for a quick second before he recovers and tries to usher you inside as quickly as he can. Your eyebrows furrow down, and you turn your head. Lucas tries to block your view but is too late.

Ten sits with someone around your age. They’re facing sideways, Ten’s guest’s face more obscured than his. You shake your head and turn back to the record shop.

“Want to buy something?” You smile and shrug. “I’ll pay this time.”

“Y/N…” Lucas starts. You roll your eyes and move past him. “Come on.”

You shop around for an hour before you decide to leave. As hard as you were trying to hide how much seeing Ten affected you, Lucas could still see you were hurting, and when you brought up the idea of going home, he relented.

You hugged him when he dropped you off, seeming okay. You weren’t as happy as when you were only worried if the main character of the movie you were watching was going to return home alright, but you weren’t as heartbroken and hurt as before the movie.

Lucas walks into the dorm. He rubs at his face and slumps on the couch. The man of the hour joins him not too long afterward. He’s slightly more bashful than he would typically be. Neither state the obvious.

Ten asks a question after a few minutes. “How has Y/N been?”

“Doing better.” Lucas shrugs. He scrolls on his phone casually, but all of his attention is on Ten. “We went to the movies today. Hung out at the mall after.”

Ten can’t hide how his expression changes at the mention of the mall. Lucas nods to confirm his thinking.

“I didn’t-” Ten starts. He stutters a few sounds, never forming full words. “I’m not-”

Lucas shrugs and plays it off better than Ten did. “He was alright. A little conflicted about his feelings, obviously, but he’s doing pretty good.”

Ten truly means what he says next. “That’s, that’s good. I haven’t seen or talked to him in a while, figured it was for the best, but I’m glad he’s well.”

Lucas doesn’t reply, thinking over the past few conversations he and you have had.

Ten sighs. “Seriously, Lucas, I still care about him, just not in that way.”

Lucas stands up. “I get it, but I’m not the one who doubts it.”

Winwin and Ten walk through the hallway, discussing their new specialty dance. They open the door to a completely dark house, except for the living room TV. Winwin and Ten can’t tell what’s going on, but the tense air emitting from the room clues them in. They walk closer, and Winwin looks over each of them before retreating into his room to take a shower.

Ten, however, examines everyone before his eyes fall on you. You sit between Xiaojun’s legs on his reclined chair. Your hand covers your lower face, your eyes concentrating on the screen. Two characters face-off, and you make a hissing noise. A jarring noise comes from the TV, and your hand slaps down on Xiaojun’s. You begin to use his arm as a shield and suppress a groan. You wait for a few seconds before poking your eyes out just above his arm.

Xiaojun holds your hand and wraps his other arm around your stomach, pulling you against his chest tighter. You whine, eyes squinting. The monster emerges from the darkness. You gasp and turn your head, covering your face with everything at your disposal.

“Tell me when it goes away.”

Xiaojun pats your head in comfort but giggles nonetheless. “You can’t hide from every scary part.”

“Watch me.” You mumble.

Ten stops his staring and slips his shoes off. Questions swirl in his mind, and he tries to stomach the possibilities. It’s not his place. At least you’re coming over again.

He walks past you. You’re the only one who doesn’t notice, still buried in Xiaojun’s chest.

He takes a long shower, not emerging until the movie is over. When he does come out to get some food, you’re no longer on Xiaojun’s lap, but you’re still pretty close to him. You sit smushed together on the same seat, your feet knocking into his on the recliner. He’s explaining something with large movements and dramatic facial expressions, and you’re hooked on his every word. His words enrapture you, eyes following his actions.

Ten walks in front of you towards the kitchen. Your eyes flit up and down when you notice him, going back to Xiaojun’s story as quickly as you were distracted.

Ten chews on his cheek and goes about making his food. He’s beginning to ignore the soft gasps you elicit from whatever Xiaojun says before a laugh bubbles out of you. It goes from a quiet giggle to a barking laugh, uncontrollable. Ten looks around the corner for a second, and you’re doubled over. You grip your stomach. Xiaojun’s looking at you fondly, and Ten turns away.

Ten moves back to his food, ignoring the pit forming in his stomach.

Was your relationship with Xiaojun always so close? What’s so funny? Why does this make him feel so frustrated? He’s happy you’re coming back. He’s happy you’re happy. Everyone is happy.

“Alright,” The waiter nods his head at Lucas and turns to you. “And what will you have tonight?”

The waiter speaks slow towards you, raising an eyebrow with a half-smirk.

You stutter and order your food quickly. Your eyes widen, and you shoot a look at Lucas, shaking your head. You scroll through your phone, trying to ignore the lauding and looks you get from the others. You scratch your neck and look around the restaurant.

Ten grips his cup, taking a long, slow drink. He resists the urge to roll his eyes at such a public accost, literally biting his tongue.

You finish your food with some more flirting from the waiter. He pushes his number towards you as he picks up the last of your plates. You stuff it in your pocket before Lucas can reach for it, hoping no one besides Lucas sees it. Based on the immediate raised-brow eye contact Kun makes with you, that’s false hope.

You leave the restaurant behind everyone else, crumpling and straightening out the paper in your pocket.

Winwin falls back, stepping in line with you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the question he wants to ask.

“I don’t know if I will call him.”

“He’s cute.” Winwin states. “Flirty. You seem to like that.”

You roll your eyes at him and kick at a pebble. You walk along for a few minutes, the boys ahead of you in their own conversation.

“I’m still…” You pick at your finger-nails. “I don’t feel as bad.”

Winwin nods. “I can tell.”

You pull the paper out. “Still not ready for this.”

“It’s understandable. You liked you-know-who for a while, I’ve had crushes before, and sometimes you need to give it time.” Winwin pats your shoulder, looking at you in earnest. “We understand, but we’re still your friends, and we will make fun of you drastically for being flirted in the middle of a restaurant! I mean, can you believe that?

You shove his shoulder and shake your head.

“You’re a looker,” Winwin hums. “It’s not a surprise.”

The sudden redness of your face makes him start to laugh

Ten walks beside Hendery and Yangyang. He only half-listens to their conversation, too busy eavesdropping on you and Winwin.

You and Winwin try to speak quietly, but he can still hear your hesitance in following through on the waiter’s solicitation. He knows you’re talking about him. Something in his stomach churns. He’s the reason you might turn down that advance. He hasn’t decided if it’s a good or a bad thing.

He’s the one who turned you down. He saw the way you looked at him, how fast your face fell before you recovered, how your voice cracked when you said you were just friends. He’s the one who did that, so why is how close you’ve been with Xiaojun a problem? Why does the way you laugh and smile with Winwin elicit a strange mixture of jealously and happiness? Why, when he went on a date with someone he previously liked and was excited to be with, his mind was full of your smile and the way you always knew what he wanted to say? And when he found out you were at the mall with Lucas, his mind went blank, and he wanted nothing more than to cut off all contact with the person he was with and tell you it meant nothing?

Did you even care? If he told you what his mind was doing to him, would you believe him? Would it matter? Is he only being protective of you as a friend? Does he even deserve a chance with you after completely disregarding what you said before? He didn’t even give your confession a chance back then. Now when you’re finally moving on, and you have the same smile you used to, is he going to strip that away again?

Ten’s walk slows, and Hendery and Yangyang move ahead of him. He doesn’t realize he’s falling behind. He doesn’t know he’s not paying attention.

That is until he’s yanked back by a hand pulling at his jacket hood. He’s knocked back into reality before a telephone pole knocks him out. His eyes focus on the metal he almost ran into, hardly three inches from it.

He looks to his side, seeing your hand still holding on to his jacket. You seem concerned, one eyebrow raised. Your mouth is moving, but it takes him until your question is asked before his mind registers it.

“Wha-”

“Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“No.” Ten answers. “No. I was just distracted. Thank you.

“No problem.” You straighten out his jacket and nod your head. “Be careful.”

You start walking with Winwin once more, restarting your previous conversation. Ten shakes his head free of his thoughts. Lucas makes eye contact with him. Ten smiles and plays it off, jogging up to join Kun.

“Do you think, if Ten liked you now, you would think about dating him?” Lucas asks.

You look at him with a confused expression, wondering what angle he’s playing. “I don’t want to think about that. It’s not worth it.”

Lucas shrugs. You pull a shirt from the rack to examine it. Lucas shakes his head at the choice, and you put it back.

“It was just a question.”

“I don’t know.” You flick through the different clothes, eyes glossy. “I still have feelings for him, but it’s difficult for me to think he would develop feelings for me. I think I would always question the intention. I don’t know.”

You move to the next rack. It’s an obvious sign.

Lucas picks up the shirt you picked earlier. “I guess the shirt isn’t that bad.”

#nct #wayv #kpop #kpop scenario #nct x reader #wayv x reader #male reader #nct imagine #nct scenario #wayv imagine #wayv scenario #ten #kpop male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #nct male reader #ten x reader #ten x male reader #ten x male!reader

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Alt Ending, Part 5

Hot take but finals kinda suck

First part

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Tag: @solangelo252

You’d think her body would be grateful that she was finally giving it food, but no. She put it in her mouth and instantly felt nauseous. It didn’t even want to go down her throat, and keeping it there felt basically impossible.

But Tim had looked so happy when she had tried, so she forced it down.

(Well, she forced some of it down. If he noticed that a good amount of the food she brought to her mouth actually disappeared into the sleeves and folds of her dress he didn’t say anything.)

Tim started coming by three times a day with food after that. She didn’t complain despite her discomfort, she had really missed him.

Also, he looked stressed out and/or exhausted whenever she saw him. She worried about him. They both had a tendency to overwork themselves when they hit blocks, hell she’d sometimes joined him in his week-long deep dives into cases, but now that she was an outsider looking in… she was kind of shocked she’d ever let it get that far for either of them. When was the last time he’d slept through the night? Taken proper time to clean himself, even? A while, she guessed from the deep bags under his eyes and the way his hair was frayed from running his fingers through it.

“Timmy,” she chirped.

He flashed her a tiny smile. “Hey,” he said, coming over and taking a seat beside her on the bed.

She took the bag from him and set it aside, much to his dismay, but then she reached over and dragged him into some cuddles and he suddenly had new concerns. He groaned into her shoulder.

“Bean, come on, I don’t want to sleep.”

She didn’t let go. “You need to.”

“Don’t have time.”

She rolled her eyes, bringing a hand up to start attempting to smooth out his hair. “You have to sleep eventually.”

“And I do!”

She didn’t answer, which he took to mean she didn’t believe him (a good assumption, she didn’t).

“I do! I get at least a few hours a week.”

“Wow, amazing. I take it back. You totally have a healthy sleep schedule.”

“Worry about yourself, first. You don’t sleep either,” he huffed, but he was starting to relax into her hold nonetheless.

“I’m also literally dead.”

“You used to say you’d sleep when you were dead.”

Marinette scoffed. “Well, to be fair, I thought I’d actually die when I died.”

He gave a short laugh, and she opted not to acknowledge that it was a little forced.

She yawned and laid back with his face in her shoulder. “I’m surprised none of the others have drugged you to get you to sleep yet.”

“They’re too busy drugging B --.” He winced just slightly. “They’ve just got a lot on their plates is all, I’m the least of their worries.”

She didn’t say anything about his tiny slip up, just gave a light hum to say she understood.

She didn’t dare to move until she was completely sure he had nodded off. Even then, she only did so to pick up the food he’d brought for her.

Her nose scrunched a little at the prospect of eating, but when she opened it and saw it was fried rice she perked up a little. She nibbled at her food.

Honestly, she didn’t know if it was working. It seemed to be, but then again most of the things that got better could be attributed to other causes. Her skin was gaining color again, but the bleach may have just started to wear out. She was feeling more energized, but then again she was now getting a total of four cups of coffee a day thanks to Tim and Jason fueling her addiction. Exercise was getting easier and she was packing on muscle again, but she was also working out enough with Dick for it to be explainable that way…

She didn’t know if it was working. She didn’t even know if she WANTED it to work. The plan had been ‘kill Bruce and then quickly off yourself before the others can react’ and not having an instant out was kinda problematic when it came to finishing that plan.

Not that the first part of that plan was working out for her, either. Bruce still hadn’t come to see her. She doubted he ever would at this point.

She didn’t even have a way out, as the door was automated and presumably opened by someone outside.

No. The only way she would ever leave was if she managed to ‘fix’ herself, and that wasn’t happening because there was nothing to fix! She would know. Her entire thing as Ladybug was fixing things.

She looked down at Tim. When he slept all the little wrinkles in his forehead smoothed to make him look much younger. She smiled a little at the sight, pressing a kiss to where she knew the creases usually were.

At least, even if her situation couldn’t be helped, she could still help others.

She’d come to expect a routine of sorts, so the moment it was broken even slightly her brain short-circuited.

Duke stood in the doorway as usual, but when she glanced past him…

“Where’s Cass?”

His grin disappeared a little, but he pulled his back to his face with ease. “Wow, I’m really feeling the love here, Mari.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, we both know Cass is the best person to ever exist.”

Duke nodded his agreement and came over to take a seat next to her. She cozied up to him as usual, curled under his arm as he pulled up their newest show on his laptop…

She had a lot of thoughts about Cass being missing.

On the one hand, she just missed her friend’s too-warm body pressed up against her and quiet complaints about how the actors were doing it all wrong.

On the other hand… Marinette was completely aware that they had Cass stopping by as much as she did to check on Marinette, to see if they were making any real progress with her. Cass was a human lie detector, able to detect when someone was going to be dishonest before they’d even realized it themselves, and they’d be stupid not to take advantage that. So, the fact that they were no longer making Cass drop in as often… either they thought she was doing better, or that she never would do better.

Marinette hoped it was the first. She knew it was the second.

She found it harder than usual to enjoy Duke’s snide comments about how dumb and cliche some of the characters were. She turned and pressed her face into his side. The glasses on the bridge of her nose dug into her skin.

Fuck. She was never getting out of there, was she?

She felt his free hand come up to run through her hair and she sighed.

“Duke…”

He pressed pause on the show.

“Tim told me you’re a meta, that you can control light. Can you do it for me?”

There was a beat.

“Why do you ask?”

She laughed a little. “Does it matter? Can’t I just be curious about why my favorite brother didn’t even bother to tell me that he has powers?”

“I thought you already knew. It’s common knowledge.”

She huffed. “Maybe I just prefer to be told things than meticulously look through every piece of information to figure it out.”

“What kind of bat are you?” He joked.

She winced and the hand in his shirt balled it just a fraction tighter. She didn’t respond.

There was a few seconds before he sighed and moved his hand from his hair to her chin, gently pulling her face out of where it was hidden in his side. She refused to meet his eyes.

It was silent again, neither of them sure what to say.

“Here,” he said after a moment, putting his free hand out and making light dance across his palm.

Her face lit up, literally and figuratively, at the sight of the tiny ball of light. She leaned a little closer.

“Aw, it looks like a tiny sun!”

He laughed a little. “Yeah. I can also…”

There was a moment of silence as he concentrated and the tiny ball of light split into the colors of the rainbow. She giggled, reaching out to cup his hand in hers. It was the first non-artificial light she’d seen in months, the first rainbow she’d seen since… Paris, actually.

Well, even if she wouldn’t ever see the outside world again, at least she could still have this little fake sun. It was basically the same, just as good, she told herself. She ignored the tears rolling down her cheeks that were telling her otherwise.

She tossed the plastic spoon she’d stolen from one of her meals in the air idly.

The plan had been to turn it into Baby’s First Shank but that probably wasn’t going to work out. Pen to the throat was at about a .01% chance of working, attacking him with a spoon-knife needed a few more zeroes added to that already insanely small number. She gave it a .000000001% chance at best.

Then again, the other option was trying to strangle someone who had an insane height and weight advantage to death before someone else could interfere...

She sighed to herself and put the spoon in her teeth, starting to pull.

She didn’t get very far before she heard the metallic whoosh of the door opening and she barely glanced up to see Dick.

He stared at her from the doorway, his eyebrows slowly raising as he watched her attempt to bite an edge into a spoon of all things.

She pulled it from her mouth with a ‘pop’.

“I think your eyebrows are trying to escape,” she told him.

He blinked at her before rolling his eyes and walking inside fully. “Thanks for the assist. Would have lost them otherwise,” he said sarcastically.

“I’ve seen you lose your phone three minutes after putting it down, Dickie, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

He gasped and rested a hand over her heart. “You think that low of me?”

“Lower. I was being nice.”

Dick pouted and walked over to the bed. She didn’t think much of it until he was diving onto her stomach. She put her hands out in an attempt to soften the blow, but it wasn’t enough to save her. She groaned in pain as his extremely hard head made contact with her not-so-hard stomach.

“FUCK. This is why your parents called you Dick, y’know!”

He only laughed at her.

Despite herself, she gave him a smile.

She rested her head back in the pillows for a moment (mostly just to catch all the breath she’d lost) before pushing him off. “Ready?”

He groaned into her comforter before rolling onto the floor. “‘Kay.”

Marinette grinned as she took a seat beside him, starting her usual stretches. He pushed himself up to sit with minimal groaning and started working on his shoulders.

It was quiet for a while as they stretched.

Marinette bit the inside of her cheek and kept her eyes on her foot when she spoke next: “Dick?”

She could feel his gaze on her.

“I… can I have some more stuff? Everything here is so boring. I just… I want new things to do. Or, at least, new things to look at.”

There was a long silence between them. Anxiety bubbled under her skin. She switched legs so she could gauge his expression through her bangs. His expression was carefully neutral.

She cringed.

“Obviously I’m not ungrateful! You guys have all been really nice and accommodating! I get food and a phone and, honestly, that’s fine --!”

“Mari!”

Her mouth snapped closed.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize. Anyone would be bored here. I can talk to them. It’ll probably depend on what you want.”

She finally looked at him properly, eyes wide. She really hadn’t been expecting that to work.

He slowly pulled his legs to him to sit criss-cross applesauce, head resting on his hand. “I can probably get some baking things, a sketchbook, just blunt objects in general. Deadly, but not before someone could get there.”

Marinette nodded her understanding, a smile making its way across her face.

“You’re the best.”

“You constantly say Duke and Cass are the best.”

She was torn between agreeing with herself and flattering him. Since she wanted something, she decided on flattery: “That was, like, a few hours ago. I’ve grown since then. You’re my favorite now, Dickie.”

“Can I get that as my ringtone?”

“Only if you only use it to mess with Jay.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it.

The door whoosed open and she barely moved her head to look at it.

She froze.

Bruce?

No. No way. There was no way in hell.

But was there? Cass HAD stopped coming. Maybe she had somehow convinced them that everything was working out and everything was fine.

Marinette hadn’t done anything differently, though, so that probably wasn’t it…

Oh. Oh shit.

Maybe she was actually going insane. Because there was no way the bats would have made that kind of mistake by letting Bruce in when she was still intent on murdering him. He had to be a hallucination, because nothing else really made sense. Kwami, Tim was going to be SO smug about this one.

Actually, no, he didn’t have to know.

Her gaze slipped away from Fake Bruce and back to the dots on her ceiling. Because, as everyone knows, that if you don’t acknowledge hallucinations they go away…

“Marinette,” Fake Bruce said, trying to trick her into outing herself as losing it.

“Marinette,” he tried again, starting his way over.

She did her best to ignore the footsteps and the way the bed shifted when he sat down. No wonder schizophrenics fell for this shit, this was all so real…

Except... weren’t schizophrenics not supposed to be able to tell what was real and what wasn’t? Wouldn’t her knowing (thinking?) he was fake be an indication that he was actually real? Or was that just her mind trying to justify believing it?

Marinette bit inside of her cheek and let herself look at Fake Bruce again.

He cracked a smile for her. A hand reached over and pushed some hair away from her face. “Hey,” he said.

She hesitated.

It would suck if this all was fake, the others would get confirmation and she really wouldn’t have a way out. But if it was real then this was her only shot. If it was real Cass would be watching the cameras to see what she was thinking and she would know for sure that Marinette was still intent on killing Bruce…

Fuck.

Marinette pushed herself into a sitting position and looked Maybe-Bruce up and down before grabbing him by the front of his suit and pulling him into a hug. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes when he hugged her back.

“Fake.”

The man tensed underneath her and then sighed as he pulled back.

He gave her an awkward smile. “I’m sorry, Marinette.”

She shook her head slightly and fell back. With a flick of her wrists the knife she’d created out of her plastic spoon was in her hands and she absently tossed it at the hallucination. Either it would make him disappear or it would look like it stabbed him and she could pretend that it actually happened.

But then it didn’t do either of those things.

Her eyebrows knit together when the spife shattered upon impact.

He looked unconcerned as he gently swept all the pieces into his hand and then put them in his pockets.

“The fuck?”

“Language,” he chided lightly.

She grinned. “You really need to work on your ‘Bruce’. Accepting a hug that quickly is one thing but chiding someone for language? In OUR family? I’m pretty sure he gave that up by Jason.”

The man chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Superman.”

“Oh.” She blinked a few times before shrugging to herself. “Okay. You look just like Bruce. It’s kinda creepy.”

“Yeah, trust me, we know. It’s pretty helpful, though. One time a person tried to assassinate Bruce and ended up fighting me. It wasn’t their day.”

She smiled a little, but it didn’t last very long. She fell back in her pillows and glared at the ceiling. “This sucks.”

“I’m sorry this all happened to you. You’re just a kid.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d long-since given up on denying that something had happened to her. Not because she no longer believed it, but because it wasn’t worth the effort. No one ever believed her when she said it.

(Could she blame them? No. She almost believed it herself just a few moments before. Still annoying, though.)

Instead of saying any of that, though, she brought a grin to her face.

“You and B should switch houses for April Fools. See if anyone notices anything.”

She really should have noticed something was up when her coffee didn’t energize her at all.

It had all been going fine. She was making Jason dispose of all the pieces of food she’d used sleight of hand to get away with not eating (she was still a little bitter about him stealing her pen and this was the most she could really do to get back at him, compromised as she was). They made idle conversation, mostly just about how Damian had got himself a new pet cat that he had named BatCat (though, apparently, they had heard him slip up and call him Charles a few times). They debated over how good that name was and the merit of Jason’s suggestion -- BatPussy, of course -- as she drank her third cup of coffee of the day.

It was about halfway through her drink that she began to notice that something was off. She squinted at Jason suspiciously.

“Decaf?” She asked, her voice worryingly sweet.

He raised his eyebrows and tried to look unimpressed despite stepping back a good half-step. “Please, if it was decaf classical conditioning still would’ve made it work at least a little.”

She opened her mouth to retort, then realized he was right. Or, at least, she was pretty sure. She couldn't seem to think of anything against it.

She frowned, looking down at her drink again and swirling the contents around. She drank the rest of it, trying to figure out why exactly it wasn’t working.

Was she already at the point where caffeine had little effect on her again? She didn’t think she was that bad yet… hell, she probably couldn’t be because she was depending on others to give her her fix…

She shook her head slightly and then quickly realized that was a bad idea. Pain stabbed through her skull and she stumbled into Jason. The plastic thermos slipped from her fingertips and went rolling across the floor. Her head crashed into his chest and arms were quick to wrap around her.

“You got shitty coffee, try a different place next time,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

He laughed a little. “Yeah, okay, kid. I’ll be sure to do that.”

She nodded as much as her headache would allow and felt the arms around her slip down to pick her up. She blinked her eyes open blearily and regretted it when the light attempted to murder her via knife to the head.

Heh. Little light particles with little knives.

Wait.

Did she get a concussion? Somehow? Without getting hit?

She buried her face in his shoulder and it was then, as he set her in bed and tucked her in, that she realized what had happened.

“Bitch,” she murmured above whatever drug they had put in her drink.

He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and she could do little more than scrunch up her nose and vaguely wave him off. Her eyes fell closed again.

Marinette woke up a while later.

The first thing she noticed was that the lights were dimmer, something she didn’t have to open her eyes to see because her head wasn’t pounding as much.

Then she realized a person was with her. They had entwined themselves around her, tangled their limbs with hers. They needn’t have bothered, everything felt like lead. She wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.

… why was she being held down? Oh no. That was probably bad, huh?

Marinette made a sound in the back of her throat and started trying to shift away from the person pressed against her back. She needed to see who they were. They didn’t bother to tighten their hold on her, she wasn’t really getting anywhere.

In fact, a hand stopped holding her down. Instead, it came up to pet her hair.

Oh? This was nice.

A voice by her head told her it was all okay. After a moment she realized she recognized that voice. She smiled sleepily. Cass. She liked Cass. She pressed closer to her and was rewarded with a hand rubbing up and down one of her arms.

She nearly fell asleep again. Cass was safe, Marinette was safe… the warmth against her and the soothing touch… of course, it certainly helped that the drug was still in her system and she was exhausted...

But then her mind wandered back to her first question. Why WAS Cass holding her down? Why did they drug her in the first place?

She moved so her hair could block some of the light and then cautiously cracked her eyes open.

The batboys were all moving things inside almost silently. Jason was carrying an entire fridge on his own. Dick and Damian were arguing over the positioning of the table they had just brought in through angry hand motions. Tim and Duke were working together on… was that a gaming set?

And she was being held down because the door was wide open.

Marinette looked at the doorway for just a moment longer. She allowed herself to imagine getting out and swinging through the city with her lasso, allowed herself to pretend she could lay in the grass, allowed herself to believe that she could see the sun and the stars and just breathe fresh air again…

And then she closed her eyes and sunk into Cass’s grip.

What was the point in trying? Even if she could somehow beat out all six of the people in the room with her and get past whatever security Bruce had to have outside of the room all while drugged… then what? No money or idea where she was… and she’d be running from the bats of all people…

Yeah. Useless. She curled up and allowed sleep to take her again.

Quite a while later she woke up and blinked a few times when she realized she wasn’t the only person in bed. At first she thought it was just Cass or Tim, they were the most likely culprits, but then she realized everyone had managed to cram themselves onto the bed with her. Her and Cass had gotten brushed to the side of the bed to make space for Tim, Dick, and Damian. Jason had collapsed across the end of the bed -- presumably for space, but Duke was laying half on top of him so that obviously hadn’t worked out.

Marinette smiled faintly and buried her face back into the crook of Tim’s neck.

When she woke up again, most of the drug flushed from her system (somehow…?), she thought she was alone.

This was fine. She was able to stretch out and sit up.

She blinked when she saw Damian, who was sitting on her floor and playing a video game.

Huh? Video game?

She looked around her room confusedly. The bats had basically made her a one-room apartment, complete with kitchenette and a tiny study area. Of course, it was much higher quality than the apartment she’d had, with a high tech gaming system and a little dining area and holy shit that was a MINI LIBRARY?

Wild.

“You’re finally up.”

She hummed lightly as an agreement. She crawled over to the end of the bed and smiled when he handed her a twizzler. It was objectively one of the worst candies, but she liked having something to do. She twirled it in her hand idly.

“Do you think… do you think it’s working?”

She frowned confusedly and dropped off the bed to sit beside him on the second beanbag chair. She chanced a quick glance in his direction to gauge how he was feeling... his expression didn’t let anything on other than that he was thinking hard, though she was pretty sure that was about the game.

“Gonna elaborate on that?”

He clicked his tongue. “Are you going to join the Undead Robins Club?”

She grinned at him. “I wasn’t a Robin.”

“You know what I mean.”

Her smile disappeared a little and she trained her eyes on the game. “I don’t know.”

“You know we never will know for sure, right?”

She blinked. She hadn’t expected anyone to acknowledge it. They were the bats, they were never going to chance taking off her glasses because if they were wrong and she WASN’T better… well, it wasn’t the kind of mistake they could easily come back from.

“Yeah, I know,” she said after a few moments.

“Do you care?”

“Doesn't really matter if I do. It won’t change anything.”

He frowned. “That’s not answering my question.”

She bit her cheek. “I… yes. I care. It still doesn’t matter.”

He looked like he was going to argue, but instead he just went back to playing the game.

“Damiiiiiiiii…” she whined and, when he gave a vague grunt to show he was paying attention, she continued with “... shouldn’t I get to play first? It’s mine.”

“You slept in too long,” he said without looking up.

She huffed. “Only ‘cause I was drugged!”

“Unfortunate.”

She got off the beanbag chair and whacked him over the head with it. He barely acknowledged it outside of an annoyed click of his tongue.

She huffed and pulled the chair back to herself to sit again. “Is it two player?”

“Nope.”

“You’re a bitch.”

He clicked his tongue again.

She pouted for a little while longer before looking back at the screen with a smile. “... heard you got a cat named Charles. Wanna talk about him?”

Damian’s face lit up. “Can I?”

“Only if you let me play.”

He looked pained. If he gave it to her then he’d be giving her something she’d want, which was a sibling no-no, but if he didn’t then she probably wouldn’t listen to him gush about his cat. A few moments went by before he reluctantly handed over the controller.

She beamed and scooted her chair over to rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel him stiffen underneath her but, when she didn’t move again outside of what was necessary to play the game, he relaxed again.

“I thought you were going to listen,” he chided lightly when she didn’t take a break between levels.

“I can listen and play.”

Damian sighed a little and shook his head.

“You don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want --.”

“I’m getting to it! So, he’s a black cat that apparently hadn’t been adopted because everyone thought he was evil so the pet store was going --.”

Marinette noticed something was up the minute the door opened.

First of all, it was Duke and Damian. That’s all that really needs to be said. Those two together… it’s never a good thing.

Secondly, they were there as Signal and Robin. Most of the time the others avoided even talking about their lives as vigilantes for fear of setting her off in one way or another, but here they were showing up in their suits? No, something weird was going on.

“Hey, Mari, can we skip a fight and you just put a bag over your head and let us pick you up?” Tried Duke.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You want to…? Huh?”

“We don’t really have much time to explain. I’ll tell you on the way.”

Damian held up a potato sack and some twine, which really wasn’t all that encouraging.

She hesitated. “... what’s something only you two would know?”

“Really?” Said Damian with more than a little exasperation.

“Hey, we’re all bats here. I’m not moving until you prove you’re who you say you are.”

(Technically, if they were really Duke and Damian, they could fight her and do it anyways. She probably couldn't beat both of them at once. Still, that kind of fight would hurt all of them and she really didn’t want to have to do it at the moment.)

Duke hesitated before shrugging. “Your favorite ice cream flavor is mint. Which I don’t understand. Just brush your teeth if you like that taste so much.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Alright, you’re who you say you are. Robin?”

“… early on I lied and said that Nightwing’s real hero name was actually BatNightwing to mess with you both.”

She frowned. “I forgot about that. You’re a dick.”

“No, Nightwing’s a Dick. He’s a Damian.”

Marinette was THIS CLOSE to fighting them anyways.

But she didn’t. She was kinda curious about where all this was going. So, she allowed them to bind her hands and slip a bag over her head. Arms wrapped around her -- she didn’t really care who it was -- and she was lifted off the ground. Then, they were walking.

Part of her wondered if this was some kind of test. They were checking to see how compliant she was or how likely she would be to run once outside. Maybe they had Superman on call in case she tried to escape.

She really couldn’t tell.

She didn’t think that they had any reason to take her out of the perfectly safe and well-stocked place they had put her in.

Maybe her location had been compromised and they were moving her to a backup? No, that didn’t make sense. Duke made sense for transport, Damian didn’t. Damian was one of the worst fighters in the family (he was in no way BAD at fighting, of course, it was just a byproduct of being in the game the shortest amount of time and not being a meta) and he was the second most likely person to end up fighting her after Jason. What the fuck?

Wait, Duke said he’d explain on the way.

“What’s going on?”

“New idea on how to bring you back,” said Duke simply.

Well, she guessed that was more information than she’d previously had. She’d take it for now.

She heard a quiet whooshing noise and frowned confusedly, only to feel herself get set down… somewhere. She felt carpeting underneath her, which meant she was in… a house? No. A car, she thought as she noticed the quiet hum of an engine. She’d been put in the fucking trunk. She kicked out as much as she could without knowing exactly where they were and gave a cry of protest, but then the lid was clicked over her head and she was thrown into uncomfortably complete silence.

She scowled to herself. She shouldn’t have thrown her spife at Superman, it would have been really useful right then. She tested the bindings against her hands and winced at how tight they were. Did they really use zip ties? Those were notoriously bad for circulation.

… oh. Yeah. She was dead. That actually wasn’t that bad, then.

Still annoying. Hard to get out of. Assholes. She wondered if it was worth dislocating her arms…

Yeah. Probably. If she could get out then she would be OUT.

She flipped herself onto her stomach. She pulled her feet up to her arms and then started pushing back. Her body strained in protest and she bit down on the front of the bag over her head to stop herself from making any sounds.

And then she felt a pop in her left shoulder and a flare of pain and the makeshift gag wasn’t enough to hold back her sobs. Her arm throbbed and it was only made worse when they reached the city proper and the roads started getting choppy. Every little bump in the road sent a new wave of pain rolling through her and all she could do was ride it out.

They started hitting smoother roads what felt like hours later... it was kind of concerning because she had no clue where they could be, those were uncommon in Gotham, but at least she no longer felt like she was going to die every few seconds.

She took a few seconds to bring her breathing back to normal before she started slowly wiggling her arms out under her butt and legs and then they were in front of her. Great. She picked herself up as much as she could in the tiny space, checked her angle mentally, relaxed her muscles, and then dropped down on her shoulder to get it back in place.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. It felt weird and still kind of hurt but at least it was mostly better.

She pulled the bag off of her head and relished in the slightly fresher air.

She looked down at the zip ties on her wrists and she sighed a little. Time to do that hack that looked stupid but actually worked if the kidnappers were stupid enough to leave you alone.

She brought her feet up, untied the laces of her shoes, and tied them back around the ties. Then she set to work trying to saw at the zip tie.

She paused when she heard the low rumbling of a plane. Were they near an airport? Oh. That was going to be a problem. She went faster.

Unfortunately, Marinette didn’t get very far before there was a click and the trunk opened.

She cried out in pain at the sudden light and squeezed her eyes shut, turning to press her face into the carpeted interior.

Hands grabbed her and pulled her out of the trunk. Before she could do much to look around so she could get her bearings and make herself a portal, the bag was forced over her head again and a strong grip on her arm (the good one, thankfully) kept her from pulling it off again. Then someone knelt in front of her and fixed her shoelaces.

“Really, NightMare?” Duke said, unimpressed.

“In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”

Damian scoffed.

Someone picked her up again and she sighed as they carried her along. They were definitely at an airport. She could hear people milling about. She was sure it was Gotham, too; she could feel a few stares, but most people seemed comfortable with the vigilantes among them.

Then came the normal airport stuff. Walking. Some arguing over whether she counted as luggage or if she could go through the metal detector with them. Sitting. A little chatting with civilians. More walking. More sitting. Very light chatter, just formalities and asking for drinks (Duke, who she figured out was the person carrying her, slipped a box of orange juice up her bag so she could have something). And then they were in the air.

After some time in the air the bag and zip ties were removed. She kept her eyes closed to let them adjust to light naturally and instead focused on rubbing feeling back into her hands.

One English alphabet later, she opened her eyes.

They were in a private plane (or was it a jet?), which explained why it was as quiet as it was. Damian was drinking a glass of water and reading something on his phone. Duke was nibbling at some complimentary pretzels and working a Rubix Cube. They both glanced in her direction from time to time, but they seemed pretty confident that she couldn’t do anything while they were in the air (which was true, but annoying).

She looked around a little more and found that there were no other bats.

“Um… where’re…?” She trailed off, unsure.

They stopped glancing in her direction, ignoring her and her question. The frown that had been on her face since pretty much when they’d first taken her from the room deepened.

“Do they… do they know what’s going on?”

The silence spoke volumes.

She rested her head in her hand. “I’m going to need something stronger than a juice box for this.”

Duke sighed but called a friendly looking woman inside to get her some wine. Marinette and Duke sipped at a glass each (Damian wasn’t allowed any, something Marinette took a little too much joy in). She scrutinized the two over the rim of her glass.

“Are you going to explain or let me guess? Because letting me guess is going to end up with me assuming you’re doing something way worse than you actually are.”

Damian sighed a little. “It’s hard to explain.”

“We’re in a plane. I’m going to guess we have time. Start talking.”

“We drugged them all -- except Orphan, she’s just out doing patrols and won’t know what’s going on for a good few hours -- and grabbed you.”

Duke gave Damian a pleading look to make him continue for them.

Damian, reluctantly, put down his phone to talk. “Signal and I have an idea on how to bring you back from the dead. The others won’t like it, especially not Red Hood, so we’re making the executive decision to not ask.”

Marinette didn’t know a lot about when Jason had been resurrected, it was a sensitive subject so it was avoided pretty much at all costs. All she’d gathered was that it was a rather messy experience for everyone involved.

She rested her head on her hand and then looked back down at her drink. She snatched the bottle from the table and, when Duke protested, set him a glare and started drinking directly from it. They were actually going to bring her back through probably shady means. She was NOT drunk enough for this shit.

She got stuffed in a suitcase when they left, which was extremely insulting (and a little embarrassing, if she were honest).

She rested her head against the side of the suitcase and listened to the dull thrum of people talking on the other side. She vaguely recognized the language, both Nino and Damian both spoke it when frustrated, but the words were all Greek to her.

Well, they were all Arabic, but you get the point.

She didn’t even realize she had been asleep until she was awoken. Rather abruptly. The zipper for the suitcase was opened and she tumbled out. Marinette cursed in French as she hit the ground and laid there, her entire body aching from not moving for so long. She hadn’t known her face could get pins and needles, she wished she could go back to her blissful ignorance.

“Are you sure about this? You want to save her?” A woman’s voice said above her, sounding a little skeptical.

Marinette forced herself to roll over so she could glare at whoever it was, she knew when she was being insulted, and then she blinked up at the new person.

A tall woman with dark skin and hair and a body to die for stood above her, hands on her hips.

“Holy shit, Dami. You got terrible genes. She’s gorgeous and you’re… you? What?”

Duke hid laughter behind his hand and Damian scoffed.

Amusement flickered behind Talia’s ‘I could kill you before you could even scream’ expression. “I’ve changed my mind. I like her.”

“Cool,” said Marinette as she quickly pushed herself to her feet. Her body wasn’t ready for that, but that was the least of her concerns. The pretty lady was ushering her along and Marinette wasn’t going to hold her up if she could help it.

“How did you die?” Talia said, which was an interesting choice for conversation.

Marinette shrugged, though, unconcerned. “I don’t know, really, there wasn’t this ‘oh, wow, I’m dead’ moment. My guess is I either drowned in acid or died of dehydration at some point. Does it change anything or…?”

“No. Just curious.”

“Oh. Good.”

“... do you not know why you’re here?” Asked Talia carefully after a moment’s contemplation.

Marinette shook her head. “Nah, they’ve been avoiding telling me. I assume it’s painful.”

“... yes. Very.”

The four lapsed into silence after that.

Marinette felt weirdly on edge as they walked through the facility, her hands rubbing the goosebumps that were prickling along her arms. The further they walked, the more on edge she felt. They were approaching something unnatural, something so undeniably WRONG, and she needed to GO.

But Damian and Duke were behind her, probably sensing her unease, and running ahead would only get her there faster… so she walked.

She bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to ground herself.

But, the moment they stepped into the room, she froze.

Green water. That apparently hurts.

Acid.

“FUCK.”

Duke was ready for her to run, apparently, stood in front of the only exit and ready for a fight before she could even get a full step away from the hell that awaited her.

“No no no no no no wait it’s fine I actually don’t mind being dead it’s fine guys please --.”

Damian grabbed her arms and she choked out a sob,

“Damian god damn it I was kidding about the mom thing you’re perfectly attractive or whatever I promise I really didn’t think it would hurt you that much we don’t need to do this let’s tALK IT OUT --!”

“It’s not about that --!”

Duke managed to get a hold on one of her legs and lifted and all she had to struggle against either of them was a foot and she was SO fucked --.

“PLEASE DUKE PLEASE I DON’T KNOW WHAT I DID BUT I PROMISE I CAN BE BETTER YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS PLEASE PLEASE LET ME GO I’LL BE FINE WE CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT PLEASE --.”

Talia grabbed her last leg and she sobbed as she thrashed around uselessly. They started dragging her towards the acid. Nothing to do no way to run no help in sight no --.

“PLEASE! I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER PLEASE JUST LET ME GO!”

And they did. They let her go and she fell into the acid.

#did i forget what the name of this was at some point #maybe #its whatever #alternate ending #alternative ending #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #harley quinzel #harley quinn #joker #maribat

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vickysaurus · 3 years

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What if season 5 was two seasons?

So watching through season 5, I kept noticing how fast the pacing had to be with the amount plot threads there were and how often I went ‘I wish we saw more of X’. So as I’ve mentioned a couple of times, I’ve started wondering if it might’ve been better if its story had been spread over two seasons rather than one. Now, obviously I understand that kind of change would not have been in the crew’s hands and no matter what they wanted would likely have been impossible. This is not intended as a ‘they should’ve just done this’ but as a thought experiment. Would a sixth season even have worked? So I’m gonna try and figure out how season 5′s content might’ve been done over two seasons in an alternate universe. In order to keep straight how far in the seasons we are, I’m gonna number the episodes 5-1 to 5-13 and 6-1 to 6-13 for clarity.

-5-1: We’re gonna start off immediately inserting an extra episode: The Fall of Bright Moon. Rather than a time skip, we get to see the first days of the invasion and the evacuation of Bright Moon in the face of overwhelming force. Micah has to switch back into being king, Adora has to deal with losing She-Ra, Bow has to deal with losing Glimmer. There’s a major subplot about Scorpia working up the courage to apologise to Entrapta and the two of them reconnecting. Perfuma probably helps her with that. That sounds like a pretty busy episode, but I think the first two Velvet Glove scenes from Horde Prime should probably be moved to it to not just leave Catra and Glimmer hanging completely.

-5-2 to 5-4: Horde Prime, Launch, and Corridors stay mostly the same. Since I moved the first Velvet Glove scenes to 5-1 and we can probably cut a bit of exposition from Horde Prime with the addition of that episode, these episodes get a couple minutes extra, which is split between an extra Glimmer and Catra in jail scene and some more of Scorpia and Entrapta’s friendship in Launch.

-5-5 and 5-6: An extra season gives us time for worldbuilding and more of the new characters, and since I like the Star siblings I’m gonna selfishly give them a bunch more screen time. The plan to save Catra takes more preparation in this version, leading Best Friend Squad and the Star siblings to go on an adventure on another planet after Stranded, one that is under Horde occupation but hasn’t been destroyed by them. They’re there for either information or some kind of device they’ll need to get on the Velvet Glove, but end up sowing the seeds for a local rebellion on the planet. We’ll see more of that plot later on.

-5-7: Save the Cat. It’s perfect as is.

-5-8: Taking Control’s A plot, enhanced with some scenes from Don’t Go into a full episode.

-5-9: This is where Taking Control’s B plot with the chipped Etherians goes. To go with it, Best Friend Squad is going on another space adventure after a rendez-vous with the Star siblings while they try and escape the Horde. I’m thinking maybe Hordak could be one of the clones searching for them, and while he doesn’t come face-to-face with Entrapta we could see some more of his conflicting feelings building in the course of this. Just a moment’s hesitation on his part allows Best Friend Squad to escape. Catra befriending Glimmer and Bow is a major part of this episode, and it basically bridges the gap between the little overtures between them in Taking Control and Catra as a part of Best Friend Squad in Shot in the Dark.

-5-10: Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio only get a cameo in season 5, and that’s something I really want to change. I want to give them a ‘Lower Decks’ episode where they’re basically just trying to go about their lives post-Horde but rapidly discovering the war is impossible to ignore. I feel like we don’t see enough of the normal Etherians in general, and I think these three are a great way to show how they’re doing.

-5-11: Perils of Peekablue. However, the scene at the end where it turns out Micah is already chipped and so are enormous amounts of Etherians doesn’t happen yet.

-5-12 and 5-13: So now I need to have a big season finale happen, and unfortunately Shot In The Dark, while a great episode, is also a little too low-energy to fit the bill. So what I’m gonna do is make it the B-plot of a finale two-parter. The A-plot is set on Etheria, and is basically some big climactic business where the Princesses, General Juliet, (remember her?) and many common Etherians take the fight back to the chipped princesses, and things go well until disaster strikes and Micah gets chipped. Pretty vague, I know. The ‘Lower Decks’ episode we did sets up a lot of the plot here; Lonnie, Rogelio, and Kyle are probably involved in it. The two-parter ends with the big ‘Oh fuck everyone’s chipped’ moment at the end of Perils of Peekablueas the big season-ending cliffhanger. After that scene, we switch to Best Friend Squad landing on Etheria, and that’s how season 5 ends.

-6-1: I think An Ill Wind would be a solid season opener as is.

-6-2 to 6-10: Yeah, I’m gonna take this whole block of episodes in one go, because this is where it gets complicated. Return to the Fright Zone and Failsafe take place in this block, but it’s beyond my ability to figure out the full plot developments of this entire season. While for season 5 I can keep to the structure of Best Friend Squad’s space adventure, season 6 is gonna be a lot more freeform, and would presumably have major plot elements added. Here’s my thoughts on these nine episodes:

-The chipped princesses get unchipped earlier. They provide good heartwrenching moments, cool bossfights, and allow for major villains ranking below Prime without having to introduce new characters, but I think ultimately it does the chipped princesses a disservice since they just don’t get to show character in the second half of the season. Just compare how well we know Netossa as a character with how well we know Spinnerella. So they get unchipped over the course of these episodes and get to be with the Rebellion again afterwards. Mermista and Spinnerella get unchipped the same way as in canon. Scorpia actually gets to talk while chipped and has a heartwrenching confrontation with Catra in which she basically responds in the worst possible ways to Catra’s regrets (the same way we saw chipped Catra basically being am expression of her worst traits) and they have a fight that’s super rough for Catra, but Catra manages to damage her chip and save her. They have a better chat afterwards, and that’s when they make up and hug it out. I think Micah is the last one to be unchipped, and I might actually keep him chipped until Heart, Part 1 so Glimmer still gets that climactic confrontation with him. Now, a possible concern is that this means there’s just not gonna be enough ‘bosses’ around to fight in Heart. Solutions to this could include for example advanced robots, chipped minor characters like Huntara, Dumbface Octavia, and alien monsters. Maybe Hordak? Though I definitely want him back on the Velvet Glove’s bridge in time to give Prime his date with gravity.

-So that’s sort of the major arc, but there are several characters and plot threads that I feel could easily be an episode’s A- or B-plot in this bunch:

*Catra is mortified when she realises she caused Angella’s death and has a big freak-out over it and tries to run away, Glimmer confronts her and they deal with their feelings on the matter

*Another Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio episode

*A Wrong Hordak episode where he discovers his own identity and picks a name, also feat. Entrapta’s attempts to reach out to Hordak

*Madame Razz episode where Adora tries to get her help, possibly involving the Crystal Castle and George and Lance

*Sea Hawk and Double Trouble drama kids adventure where they try to save Mermista (I think Mermista vs. Sea Hawk and Mermista being unchipped gets moved to the end of this episode). These two were delightful for the little time we saw them together in Perils of Peekablue and I want Sea Hawk to somehow rope Double Trouble into an adventure.

*All the space adventures and world building I put in season 5 coming to a head when some form of space reinforcements led by the Star siblings come to help.

*And of course Return to the Fright Zone and Failsafe.

-6-11 to 6-13: Heart is now a three-parter, deal with it. Horde Prime is beaten at the end of part 2, or more likely the start of part 3, and the rest of part 3 is that sweet dénouement I crave.

So with all that laid out, let’s return to the question: would this work? I think if it had originally been written to be two seasons, the story could have easily worked for two. As is, I’m retrofitting a single season to be two, so some of the stuff I’ve added sounds rather redundant or vague. There are certainly enough plotlines and characters to make a split work, but of course those would’ve had to have been written into the plot from the start to not feel tacked on. Of course, brevity is the soul of wit, so even if two seasons had been an option, it’s quite possible a single that has too little time is still better than two that have too much.

#spop #she-ra and the princesses of power #meta #season 5

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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

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You See: Jellylorum’s Arc and Why It’s the Best Grizabella Arc

Yeah, so, I got writer’s block trying to organize and write this properly, so I’m just writing off the top of my head. I can only hope that any of it makes sense.

I said that I might elaborate on Jellylorum’s hatred of pubs and Grizabella, and I decided to go ahead and do it, even though literally no one asked.

So, the general arc with Grizabella for most characters, especially Munkustrap and Bombalurina, is that Griz did something to offend everyone and they still hold a grudge, so they won’t let her back into the tribe, even though she might be literally dying. Then Grizabella sings Memory and everyone’s moved and they learn to forgive and Grizabella goes to the Heaviside Layer, which was probably Old Deuteronomy’s plan all along.

However, many people, even if they like Memory as a song, don’t really follow the Grizabella story. I’ve gotten the feeling that she’s not a popular character on this site, which is not helped by Munk and Bomba, much more popular characters, being against her for most of the show. The main problem with the forgiveness story is that the audience lacks any context. We don’t know what happened, so we don’t know if this is a story about forgiving someone for something petty, or forgiving someone who seriously wronged you. Most attempts to solve this problem fall flat. The 2019 film said that Grizabella went off with Macavity, but the movie had to alter the roles of several characters to get that to work. Mungojerrie worked for Macavity, and the tribe took him back. Demeter and Bombalurina had some sort of relationship with Macavity, and the tribe took them back. So, the movie makes Jerrie and Bomba more villainous and removes Demeter’s connection to Macavity, so Grizabella stands out. If you have to throw out large portions of what’s interesting about three characters to make your backstory make sense, it’s not a good backstory.

But, the show already sort of has a built in solution to this problem. While most of the characters hate Griz because of some past incident, there’s still at least one character arc about accepting Grizabella that’s based entirely on what the audience can see and hear.

This is where Jellylorum comes in.

If you pay close attention to how Jellylorum reacts to Grizabella, as well as to several other characters, you’ll notice that, though I’m sure she’s upset over whatever Griz did too, Jelly is not motivated by a grudge. It’s not about Grizabella’s past. It’s about her present.

Grizabella the Glamor Cat

Jellylorum, for the first few numbers, doesn’t really stand out. She’s always part of a larger group. In Gumbie Cat, she’s in a trio with two other queens. At this point, the audience really wouldn’t know what makes these characters stand out from one another. In Tugger’s number, Jelly is one of four older cats who are shocked and offended by Tugger’s antics, but the reactions of all four characters serve the same purpose. Jelly, Jenny, Skimble, and Asparagus are part of an older generation and they don’t get the things kids are into these days, finding them downright offensive.

If isn’t until Glamor Cat that this starts to change. At first, Jelly’s still the same as Jenny and Skimble, an older cat who stops the kittens from touching Grizabella. What’s different is how Griz reacts. Skimble leads Jemima away and Griz doesn’t comment. Jenny slaps Electra’s hand away and Griz doesn’t comment. But, when Victoria and Etcetera crawl towards her and Jelly runs in to stop them, Griz turns on her. Up until this point, the song has been fairly quiet. This is the first time Griz raises her voice, taking the orchestra with her.

You see the border of her coat is torn and stained with sand

Grizabella is dirty and beaten up by life and she accuses Jellylorum of responding to that, assuming that someone in Griz’s condition must be a threat to the children. This isn’t about a grudge. It’s about judging by appearances, specifically, the appearance of poverty, which will become more clear as we go.

When Demeter starts singing about Grizabella, she doesn’t sing about her glamorous past:

She haunted many a low resort

Near the grimy road of Tottenham Court

Tottenham Court Road, at the time this poem was written, was associated with crime. It’s a street in a lower class neighborhood which was infamous for theft and prostitution. So, Griz has been seen in a place where bad things happen. To think of her as a criminal is guilt by association.

The play decides not to tell us what Grizabella did to become an outcast, but it does tell us about her life as an outcast. From her character design, we can also see that Griz is in poor shape. This is the information the audience is actually given.

Bustopher Jones

Bustopher is easy to compare to Tugger, since the cats that don’t like Tugger all adore Bustopher. But, because we met Grizabella right before this, he can be compared to her too. Bustopher is everything the older cats see as ideal, while Griz is the opposite. Bustopher spends time among the rich in gentlemen’s clubs. Griz spends time in a working class neighborhood with a high crime rate. Even though they’re both probably strays, Bustopher presents as rich and Grizabellla presents as poor.

Just as different cats have different reasons for hating Grizabella, different cats have different reasons for liking Bustopher. For some, it’s his skill and gaining access to good food. Jenny has a crush on him. Misto likes that they look similar and that he’s the mature and sophisticated adult Misto wants to be. But, though Jellylorum’s part in the number is small compared to Jenny’s, the first thing she has to say about Bustopher is:

He doesn’t haunt pubs

Unlike gentlemen’s clubs, which are exclusive, pubs are everywhere and are for everyone. They’re frequented by the working class. Bustopher is only seen in the upper class parts of town.

Meanwhile, some of the locations Demeter mentions in Glamor Cat, The Rising Sun and The Friend at Hand are pubs. Bustopher doesn’t haunt pubs. Grizabella does.

The Glamor Cat Reprise:

So, a lot’s been implied about Jellylorum and how she admires things associated with the upper class and has disdain for things associated with the working class. But, this is where it all comes together. Grizabella accuses Jelly of treating her as someone to be feared and shamed because she’s from the bad side of town and looks it. Here, by repeating Grizabella’s words, Jelly confirms the accusation:

You see the border of her coat is torn and stained with sand

Jellylorum turns to Victoria, the pure white Symbol of Innocence who wears a sparkly pink collar, implying a wealthy owner, and points out that Griz is dirty and is both someone Victoria should avoid and strive not to be like. Victoria ignores her. Victoria is the feline equivalent of the sheltered princess, a proper young lady from a good family who hasn’t seen much of the world. But, Victoria is unaware of the implications of her status and sees someone like Grizabella as an equal. She doesn’t acknowledge class and doesn’t listen when adults try to explain it to her.

When Jellylorum pulls a kitten away from Grizabella, it’s always Victoria. The first time, it was Victoria and Etcetera, but Victoria is always involved. Victoria is never stopped by any other adult either. She seems to be Jelly’s responsibility, which creates and interesting contrast.

Gus: The Theatre Cat

After the Grizabella Reprise confirms that Jelly’s prejudice against Grizabella is based in classism, it would be easy to see her as a villain. The unspoken grudge of Munkustrap and Bombalurina is more sympathetic.

But, very early on in act two, Jellylorum is given the spotlight, and we can see her good side. Gus is a lot like Grizabella. They’re both old and past their prime, but they once were stars of some sort. But, Gus is loved and cared for by everyone. Grizabella is one her own.

Gus meets with his friends at the pub to tell theatre stories. You can tell from Jelly’s delivery when she brings it up that she’s not happy about this. But, she loves Gus anyway. Gus is old, his coat is a mess, and he hangs out in working class pubs, but Jellylorum loves him anyway. She’s perfectly capable of seeing beyond classist prejudice when it’s someone she already likes. She just hasn’t realized that Griz and Gus are the same. She can learn the lesson she needs to learn. She’s not a villain. She’s antagonistic, but she’s redeemable.

Memory

Griz appears one last time, Victoria tries to touch her, Jelly stops her. Same old, same old. Things don’t get interesting until everyone sits down. Jellylorum, along with Victoria, sits with Old Deuteronomy and Munkustrap. She’s right up there with the leaders of the tribe. This puts her on the same level as Munkustrap, who has his own lesson to learn from this.

Memory makes Jellylorum realize how much Grizabella is suffering. She’s not on Tottenham Court because she does bad things. She’s there because she’s in a bad situation and has nowhere else to go. Griz is also caught up in memories of her past like Gus is. Jelly, like everyone else in the tribe, figures it out.

When Victoria gets up to touch Grizabella, she looks back to the adults to get permission. Old Deuteronomy nods, letting her go ahead. But, it looks like all of the adults in that corner consulted each other. Munkustrap, at this moment, makes the decision to forgive Grizabella. Jellylorum, at this moment, makes the decision to accept Grizabella as an equal. She’s no longer beneath someone like Victoria.

Then, when all the cats greet and welcome Grizabella, Jelly looks very guilty, more so than the other older cats do. She’s realized just how petty she was being, that she was even worse to Griz than most of the tribe, because they either had a more emotionally-charged reason, or they just didn’t know any better.

Jelly’s story arc is a classic “don’t judge a book by its cover” story, with the symbols of class being the cover she judged.

In Conclusion:

Everything about this arc is based on information the audience is given. We can see that Grizabella is in bad shape. We know where she’s been spending her time because Demeter tells us. We can confirm Jelly’s motivation with the Grizabella reprise. We can compare how the characters of Gus and Griz are described:

You see the border of her coat is torn and stained with sand

vs.

His coat’s very shabby, he’s thin as a rake

Jellylorum sings the former line with disdain, but she sings the latter line with sympathy.

Jelly’s arc is where Grizabella stands out the most. Griz calls her out on her bullshit, is shown to be completely right in her judgement of her, and then is able to change her mind.

And, the emotional impact is all there, because no important information is hidden from the audience. The arc begins with the words “you see”, because you can.

#cats 1998 #jellylorum #grizabella #cats victoria #gus the theatre cat #bustopher jones #i did an essay #i had a surprising amount to say about that #jellylorum hates pubs #and it's actually important #class consciousness #but with singing cats #don't be a dick to poor people #this isn't edited #so i have no idea what typos it has #and i don't care right now #it's two o'clock in the morning #i give my last fuck at midnight

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thewritetofreespeech · 3 years

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hello! idk if you do my hero academia stuff, but could you do the alphabet meme for dabi, hawk, and aizawa?? I didn't see any stuff on your blog for this other than gifs, but thought I would take a shot!! 😣

hello! I haven’t done anything for BNH yet because no one has requested it. I have not problem taking a crack at it though ^_^

I assuming that you mean the NSFW Alphabet meme? So that’s what I’m doing. Also, as a note, if you want to send memes (which I encourage) please send the thing you want if it has multiple options ;3. I’ll just do 3 letters each for now

My Hero Academia NSFW Headcanons

Dabi

F = FAVOURITE POSITION ( This goes without saying.)

Hit it from the back. He likes to do it from behind so he can hold on to their hips, and also thrust deeper. Second favorite is on his back/them on top. Ya boy is lazy. But he also likes to watch.

C = CUM ( (Anything to do with cum basically)

Likes to cum on his partner. Either on their back, if they’re doing it in his favorite position, or on their chest. Something about marking them with his cum really turns him on.

K = KINK (One or more of their kinks)

Using his powers during sex. Not trying to burn anyone (on purpose) but heats up his hands to a warm or almost uncomfortable level on his partner’s skin to have them squirm. Also uses more intense flames for more dangerous elements of sex play.

Hawks

B = BODY PART (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His: His face. Sounds kind of conceded, but he likes the way he looks. Also he has a very firm jawline. It makes for a nice place to sit.

Theirs: Butt. He’s an ass man. Can’t help it. No further comment.

U = UNFAIR (how much they like to tease)

A lot. Come on. It’s Keigo..... Will tease his s/o mercilessly if he’s feeling in the mood until they beg him to fuck them. Which, he will. He’s not a monster.

O = ORAL (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Preference is giving. Likes to give his partner pleasure and feels incredibly powerful, even if he is on his knees. Skill level is a 9.5 on a one-to-ten sliding scale. Always room for improvement, and he’s willing to practice.

Aizawa

H = HAIR (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Despite his hair being bananas, his lower half is actually quite well groomed. He has a man bush, but tries to keep it tidy at least for his partner, hygiene, and those damn super hero suits.

E = EXPERIENCE (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly experienced. He’s been around the block a few times, so he has a line of past lovers. Not too crazy. His count doesn’t break double digits, but he’s worked well within those numbers.

G = GOOFY (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Yes. But that just makes it worse because his ‘serious face’ makes his s/o giggle. Focused in the moment and tries not to think of anything else but them. Sometimes it’s hard; since the world seems to be on fire every few minutes in his life.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#my hero academia #boku no hero #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero hc #my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia hc #dabi #hawks #keigo takami #shota aizawa #aizawa #my hero academia smut #boku no hero smut

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 4 years

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Making Memories || TMR Minho x Reader

Summary: When Y/N loses her memory, she joins up with Group B to try and survive in the mountains. Little does she know that Group A thinks she’s been dead for months and they’re shocked to find out that Minho’s girlfriend is still alive.

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Note: I haven’t seen any Maze Runner content lately and since I’ve had this idea for a long time, I decided to just say fuck it and write it since I’m a slut for Minho.

Warning: Amnesia, mentions of death, angst

For the last couple of weeks of enduring the scorch, Minho was going through an internal crisis. With all of the crazy things that had happened to him like escaping the maze and even getting struck by lightning, he still felt that he wasn’t himself.

Ever since you were taken by Griever’s that night during the attack, Minho felt numb. He felt like a machine, getting up every day just to go back to sleep.

As awful as it sounds, he thought his grief would rest temporarily like everyone else they had lost along the way but for you, that wasn’t the case.

The group, now joined by a few outsiders like Aris, Jorge, and Brenda, followed the idea that there was safety in numbers and that finding the Right Arm would be a step closer to get away from WCKD forever.

While Minho knew he would follow Thomas anywhere, he still felt like he was in autopilot of where his life was taking him.

Minho clung to his friends because he knew that the thought of losing anyone else close to him would drive him over the edge. Whenever the group would walk in silence to save energy through the sand dunes, Minho would try to remember you as best as he could.

He felt guilty that everything he loved about you was turning into a distant memory. Even now, he would have a hard time remembering what you sounded like because the last memory of you was when you were screaming for Minho and Thomas to hold onto you as you were getting dragged away by a Griever.

While Minho knew you were gone, he would still wait for you to playfully punch his shoulder after he would say something rude or make a face at you whenever someone else said something stupid.

Thomas and Newt have tried to comfort their friend but Minho always brushed them off and would always tell them that he was fine.

Minho’s way to deal with your death was to just not talk about it so everyone obeyed his wishes. Little did he know, you would find a way to come back into his life.

When Harriet and Sonya found you, your mind was completely barren of anything that happened before, including your whole experience in the glade which meant having no thoughts of Minho at all.

The only thing you knew was your name and even then, you were still unsure of how true that was. The girls had filled you in on everything they knew, filling your head about escaping a maze constructed by WCKD and being rescued by a group called the Right Arm.

The flare had wiped out most of the population but WCKD never stopped searching for a cure, which was in your blood and other youths in your generation. After weeks of traveling and finding sanctuary, the group around you became your home and you all took shelter in the mountains.

While the mountains provided protection, on rare occasions intruders would slip by without being noticed. Ever since the last attack, the Right Arm guarded the main entrance to the mountains more heavily than before to avoid any other conflicts.

You were at your post in the mountains, eyeing the only entrance into the tunnels when you spotted a group of people making their way through. You picked up your binoculars and got a closer look at the people weaving through the abandoned cars parked by the entrance.

You picked up your walkie and called in for ground control,” Y/N at Post one, I have an eye on eight individuals approaching our main entrance. Requesting a few firing warnings.”

You squinted, trying to make out any descriptions of the group before some of the men who were at their posts fired down at the cars.

You took one last glance at the group from down below ducking for cover as you left your post and went down the side to retrieve them.

While this was a normal procedure that you were used to by now, you knew you had to be on your toes just in case anything bad happened.

You met up with Harriet and Sonya who were waiting at the corner for your arrival with guns in each of their hands.

“ Does it look like they have any weapons?” You asked as Sonya shook her head.

“ I didn’t see anything on them but we can’t be too careful,” Harriet said as you lifted up your bandana to cover half of your face.

The three of you turned the corner and walked slowly towards the closest members of the invading group with Harriet leading.

“ Drop it.” Harriet ordered as she blocked your line of vision ,” I said drop it!”

You weren’t sure what this group was doing up here in the mountains but you had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right.

“ On your feet, lets go!” Harriet shouted as the two members of the group stood up and joined the rest of their friends.

You slipped through beside Sonya and you watched their panicked expressions carefully. As you made eye contact with each one, you watched their faces drop.

“ Y/N? Is that you?”

Minho’s eyes snapped to that familiar name and when his eyes found yours, his knees almost buckled as if he just saw a ghost.

Everything around Minho felt still as if the world had stopped spinning for just you and him. Weeks of sleepless nights with nightmares that plagued him now made him feel adrenaline like never before.

He had been playing the image of you getting ripped from his arms over and over again, beating himself everyday for not holding onto you tighter.

But now, with you standing before him, that last cruel image was overshadowed by the countless memories of you that he thought he had lost forever.

Memories of your first sweet kiss by the bonfire, memories of you patching him up after he had sprained his ankle, memories of you waking up next to him every morning with your mouth wide open.

Harriet kept her weapon pointed at the group but made a quick glance towards you,” You know these guys?”

Before you could shake your head, Minho practically lunged himself towards you and tried to pull you in for a hug. It all happened so fast and before he made contact, you used the end of your gun and slammed in into the side of Minho’s head.

Minho fell to the ground and ate a mouthful of dirt as he held the side of his temple, which was now bleeding. He looked up at you standing over him with your weapon pointed towards him and Minho was confused to say the least.

“ How do you know me? Do you work for WCKD or something?” You asked hastily as you scanned the rest of the group, some of them taking a step back,” I asked you a question!”

Thomas looked down at his friend and back at you,” You don’t remember us? You..you don’t remember Minho?”

The boys expression was something you couldn’t describe but the way he said it made it seem like you had just offended them. You thought it over in your head as you tried to think of where you could’ve seen them before but you were drawing a blank.

Harriet lowered her weapon as she locked eyes with one of the boys with them,” Aris?”

“ Oh my god, Harriet.”

You watched as Sonya followed in Harriet’s lead and dropped her weapons to bring in Aris for a hug.

As they reunited, Minho kept his eyes on you, still in disbelief.

That should be us right now Minho thought as he watched the happy reunion between Aris, Sonya, and Harriet.

Minho didn’t know how to feel; he was relieved that you were seemingly alive and well yet you weren’t the same. Every moment the two of you had shared was wiped away without a care in the world.

What killed Minho the most was that as you looked back at him, he didn’t recognize you at all. There was no love or admiration in your eyes like he used to remember.

He was staring at a complete stranger and yet, he still wanted to reach out and touch you.

After the little reunion had died down, the three of you took the group back to camp where it would be more safe. The whole ride there was silent as you tried to keep your eyes on the road. Every now and then, you would look back using the rear view mirror and catch Minho staring right back at you.

Tall grass. Walls. Burnt meat.

They came in flashes throughout the whole drive everytime you would look back at him.

Box. Shoes. Dirt.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until your body started to shake.

Once you got to camp, you went straight to your tent and sat on your bed.

You could feel your heart beating against your ribcage and your breathing was all over the place. You didn’t know what came over you but you felt yourself start to get dizzy.

“ Uh, hey.”

You looked up and saw Minho at the opening of your tent, waiting there patiently.

Warmth. Laughter. Sweat.

You placed your hand over your chest and beckoned him to come over as you stood up.

“ Hey,” you sighed as you looked at his forehead, which was done bleeding,” I really am sorry about that....let me help you clean it.”

Minho said nothing but sat down on your bed as you grabbed a small medical kit from underneath your desk. You kneeled down in front of Minho and pulled a bandage out as your hands started to shake.

Minho bit his lip as he watched you struggling like a helpless animal. He held his breath and held your hands and you immediately stopped shaking.

You looked up at him and even though you didn’t recognize him at all, you knew deep down that you possibly knew him.

“ So... you don’t remember anything?” Minho said softly as you started to clean his wound.

“ I remember bits and pieces. It’s not so much memories but I can feel and see quick images of things you know?” You looked up at Minho but he shook his head,” like...when I heard your friend Fry talk, it’s like I had a salty taste in my mouth from grilled meat. Or when I saw Thomas I felt...inspired? I don’t know, it’s weird but it’s the same feeling that Harriet has as a leader.

This was the most you had talked so far and Minho didn’t know how much he really missed your voice until he couldn’t hear it anymore. While he could listen to you talk all day, there was something bothering him that he needed to know.

“ What about me?” Minho asked quietly as you stopped in your tracks,” what do you feel when you see me?”

Bed Sheets. Snoring. Hands.

You cleared your throat and grabbed the bandages,” I don’t know.”

Minho gave a small smile and pointed towards your lip,” I know you’re lying. You always bite your lip when you lie.”

You pushed your lip back out from your teeth and laughed softly,” Okay, creep you caught me...when you were in the car I...this is stupid.”

You shook your head from embarrassment and raised up from your spot on the ground but Minho grabbed your hand. He knew he had to be delicate since he was practically a stranger to you but he didn’t want you to leave.

There was so much he wanted to know and he felt like his time with you was limited.

“ Please, I need to know,” Minho swallowed as you sat down beside him on your bed.

You watched his desperate eyes, they were hungry for answers, for confirmation that somewhere deep inside, you were still you.

“ The biggest thing I feel is warmth...not like from sunlight but from uh- body heat,” You said as you avoided his gaze,” then sweat. I can feel it and smell it when I see you.”

Minho chuckled but rubbed the back of his neck, feeling slightly embarrassed,” Jeez, I didn’t realize I smelled.”

You shook your head and let out a gentle sigh,” No, no. It’s not a bad smell it just smells of the outside like when someone works out. I think I remember your laugh and now that I think of it, my chest feels...tight...also do you snore? Cause seeing you in this bed is making my brain hear it.”

Minho shrugged his shoulders innocently but laughed loudly,” You used to hate it when I snored. You would kick me every time I did and one day you made me sleep outside the door cause you were so tired.”

You snapped with your right hand and pointed at Minho,” That laugh. I remember that.”

Your face dropped for a moment and Minho noticed this,” D-Do you remember something else?”

You nodded as several images and senses cycled through your brain as millions of connections were being made.

“ Your laugh...I remember being embarrassed!” You said as you squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed your temples.

You stood up from your bed and walked away from Minho, trying your best to put the pieces together,” shit why was I embarrassed? Sweat...You ran a lot-you ran every day like a-a…fuck... I don’t know, you were fast! I thought I could beat you in a race but…”

Minho swallowed hard as he thought about that day and stood up quickly,” You slipped really bad and your whole shirt was covered in mud.”

You opened your eyes and turned to Minho, your mouth hanging slightly open. You couldn’t believe it, ever since you were found, you could never develop a solid memory until now.

Minho could see the gears turning in your head and he kept going, listing off what happened,” You were so mad because that was your favorite shirt. It was your favorite because-”

“ Because it was the same shade of blue that you always wore,” You nodded as your smile started to grow bigger and bigger,” then we went to the spring to wash it and then I fell in with all of my clothes on. You laughed so hard you started crying! And then-”

You stopped rambling as the next image in your brain replayed in your head.

“ Stop laughing at me and help me!” You whined as you pulled yourself out of the spring,”this water is freezing you dick!”

Minho stopped laughing at you and watched your face with a huge smile on his lips,” Aw baby don’t pout.”

You crossed your arms until you formed an idea in your head. You ran over to Minho with your arms wide open and before Minho could run away, you held your wet body against his.

You two rolled around as Minho complained about getting wet before his body was on top of yours.

Once you stopped laughing, you looked up at Minho, who was inches away from your face. You felt his body pressed up against yours and you could feel his heartbeat against your chest.

Minho smirked before leaning in and pressing his soft, warm lips against your own. You moved your hands to his hair as you gently pulled on it, bringing him closer to you.

Between the deep kisses, Minho took a breath and pulled away,” I love you.”

You smiled sweetly back at him before pressing a quick kiss against him,” I know you do...but I love you too.”

Your mouth felt dry as you turned back to Minho who also replayed the memory. You looked at him longingly as your shoulder’s dropped.

“ We were in love...you didn’t say anything about that.”

Minho held his breath and nodded, unsure of what to say. He didn’t want the memory to scare you off, even though he would’ve felt the same way.

He couldn’t imagine seeing himself kiss a stranger, let alone say I love you to one another and he knew you had to process all of this new information.

“ Yeah...is that bad? That we are-were in love?” Minho asked as you took a seat next to him.

You shook your head, you were so overwhelmed and that you didn’t even think you could let any words out.

“ No, it’s not bad,” You said as Minho shifted in his seat,” but I’m sorry. I know you loved me and I loved you but...looking back at those memories I-I don’t know how to feel. I know it’s me in those memories but I feel like I’m watching someone else in my body.”

“ I understand it’s just that...we were together for so long and I can’t let that go,” Minho sighed as he reached for your hand to hold but he thought twice and drew back,” I love you. I still love you even though you don’t know me. I know we can’t get back what we had but we’re here together now.”

You ran your fingers through your hair before sighing deeply,” I can’t be that girl you fell in love with. I don’t know her Minho and I-I don’t know you. I’m sorry that you lost someone you cared about but I’m not the same person I was in those memories.”

“ I’m not either! I mean, I’ve changed a lot but at the same time I’m the same guy. I’m just asking to be in your life right now. We don’t have to get married or anything I just…” Minho didn’t know he was even on the verge of tears until his voice cracked,” I watched you die. I thought you were dead for months and I never dealt with the pain of losing you. I can’t let you walk out of my life and honestly, I don’t know if I can handle the pain anymore.”

You were torn. You felt so much grief watching this poor guy seconds away from sobbing. This was someone you loved and although you trusted what he was saying, you didn’t feel the love he felt for you.

As much as you wanted to reach out and tell him you felt the same way, you knew it would be a total lie.

“ I’m sorry,” you said simply as you turned away and faced the wall.

Minho watched you for a moment as his heart broke into a million pieces. The love of his life was alive but the old Y/N was dead.

Minho had lost people he cared about before but you were supposed to be the one that would be by his side no matter what.

You were the glue that held Minho together and the thing that broke him the most was that you had no idea how much you really meant to him.

Minho gathered himself before getting up from the bed and walked away silently as you felt your chest grow tighter.

For months, you had no memories of what your past life was and you thought of it as a fresh start and a way to build yourself a new life. He helped you remember a part of yourself that you had accepted was gone forever.

You didn’t know you could have a fresh start with the old memories but with Minho standing before you, you didn’t know if you could have that fresh start without him.

“ Wait! Hold on,” You called after him as he stopped in his tracks and turned to you.

You walked over and played with the hem of your shirt nervously,” I’m sorry, I can’t be the old Y/N you want me to be...but maybe you can help me out.”

Minho nodded slowly as his mind raced with ideas,” So what are you proposing?”

You tried to hide your smile as stuck your hand out towards him,” Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, stranger.”

Minho studied your face carefully as his shoulders relaxed.

He wasn’t willing to completely throw away every memory about you like how mad you got whenever someone talked over you or how you would always pick food off of other people’s plates in the Glade because you claimed it tasted better.

He wasn’t willing to forget how warm you felt when you slept beside him, cuddled up underneath his arm or how it felt to have your fingers massage his back after a long day in the maze.

He wasn’t willing to let any of that go but for your sake, he was ready to make new memories with you as long as you would never leave him again.

“ I’m Minho and trust me, with a face like mine, you’ll never forget me.”

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putschki1969 · 3 years

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H-el-ical// 『B-day Event 2021』Live Commentary/Report

Date: July 2, 2021 Stream open 18:00／Stream start 18:30 Stream Ticket purchase period: 2021/6/19 12:00〜7/8 19:00 Ticket sales page https://eplus.jp/h-el-ical_st/ Ticket price: 3,000 yen Archived video available until July 8 23:59

Hikaru tweet |

Notes: As discussed in previous posts, it’s VERY hard for foreigners to buy tickets on e+. Their service requires a registration with an active Japanese phone number which needs to be verified via SMS/call (something I managed to do a couple of years ago with the help of a kind friend in Japan - it wasn’t easy at all). On top of that, you can ONLY pay with Japanese credit cards or at convenience stores (once again, something that was only possible because I know kind people who are willing to help me with stuff like that). Lots of hurdles which aren’t easily overcome. *sighs* I know that e+ does in fact have an overseas ticket service but alas, Hikaru’s team have decided not to offer it. Maybe it wouldn’t have paid off for them, I don’t know. However, I think you CAN use a proxy service like FromJapan or WhiteRabbitExpress because they will handle the whole process for you. Careful though! It has come to my attention that certain foreign fans cannot access the relevant e+ pages anymore. I think the reason for that might be that e+ blocked the countries where their overseas service is available. So even if you get a Japanese ticket through FromJapan etc you might not be able to access the event without using some proper VPN. Anyways, without further ado, let’s get to the live commentary 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

•————— ♬ —————•

LIVE COMMENTARY/IMPRESSIONS (TO BE UPDATED)

The current background music is an acoustic instrumental arrangement of a famous song I know but for the live of me, I can’t remember its name or the lyrics. Sounds a bit jazz-y, pop standard-ish, I’m guessing that will be the vibe for the event? I don’t really know the other piece they are playing now. Could be anything really.:P

It’s a small but cute venue. Takeshi Kato (from SPICE) is enthusiastic as always as host XD Hikaru looks super cute. They are clapping “Happy Birthday” for her (they can’t sing due to COVID guidelines unfortunately). She also got a little cake and and Amazon giftcard from her management.

Time for a little “How much do you know about H-el-ical//” quiz: She needs to reply within 5 seconds which Hikaru finds very difficult. On what day was “pulsation” released? (June 1 2019) The venue for her 1st H-el-ical// live? (Kanagawa Kenmin Hall) How many H-el-ical// songs are there in total? (24) How many goods did she sell for her acoustic live in 2020? (11) Something about the key being different in the first part of the song compared to all her other songs. Hikaru doesn’t know this. Gushimiyagi chose that question :P Apparently it’s Landscape. Hikaru scolds Gushi for coming up with such a difficult question :P Otherwise Hikaru did great tho, she answered 4 out of 5 qustions

Then they bring out five different bubble teas for Hikaru to taste. I think she is supposed rank them according to how strong they taste or sometthing? No idea. She is pretty good at it (even though she almost chokes :P) And she was happy to finally drink some tapioca again. She is trying to take a break for the YK Live Tour.

LIVE CORNER: She is doing the TOP 3 of the survey where we got to choose our faves. Hirotaka Sakurada has joined Hikaru on stage. 1. disclose ~ acoustic ver. [WOW!! LOVE IT!! So powerful *chills*] 2. Altern-ate- ~ acoustic ver. [Really loving these arrangements. Sakurada’s playing is pretty epic and fits Hikaru’s super dramatic and dark singing.] 3. 咲 -SHOW- [Okay, didn’t expect that to be so high in the ranking. Not one of my favourites :P A tad too shrill for my liking, much preferred the lower key of the previous songs. Still Hikaru is super cute and she was happy that it ranked so high bcause she wrote the song for us]

GOODS INTRO CORNER: Hikaru is excited to see lots of people wear her masks. Cute as always. My merch already arrived at the TENSO warehouse. Can’t wait to receive all of them. Dammit, the t-shirt looks so soft. Her shirts are honestly the best. I kinda regret not ordering one. There is still a chance for you to purchase the items! [H-el-ical // Limited time ONLINE SHOP] http://h-el-ical.tokyo TUTORIAL [Order period] 2021/5/21 20: 00 ~ 2021/7/6 23:59

LIVE CORNER: We are back to some songs. Something summer-themed. 4. Spiranthes [Lovely as always. Not what I would have liked to hear from the “Blooming” album tho :P]. 5. 水 – Find your answer [Another nice pick but once again not what I would have chosen from the “elements” album] MC: Hikaru is super happy to have Sakurada with her because she has loved his playing ever since the Kalafina day. 6. 火 − One step forward [They did a darker arrangement for this live. I love it! Made me fall in love with the song. Hikaru SLAYS!] 7. Existence ~ acoustic ver. [LOL, I almost forgot about this song. Shame on me. I prefer it like this I think. Her screams are super cool]. 8. 紡-TSUMUGU- [Ahhhhhh, I knew this would be the final song. I am in love. The lalalas always get to me! She asks everyone at the venue to clap along and everyone who is watching the stream can sing the lalalas with her 💕 ]

She received another present from her drummer MASUKE. Then Hikaru once again announces that all her albums are now available on various streaming services. AND we are getting a NEW SONG today on YouTube - “I am me”. Please look forward to it! It’s a song with a very youthful vibe. Awwww, her final words are so touching, I think she almost teared up. And she is taking some pictures with the audience whic she will upload later. AHhhh. wish I could have been there. Will there be an encore? Maybe? But the live stream doesn’t seem to cover it?

ENCORE: THERE IS an ancore!! And it IS covered by the live stream!! For a second the sound didn’t work but they fixed it quickly. BANZAI! 9. Happy Birthday [She sang it for herself because the audience isn’t allowed to sing. So precious! ]

#kalafina #hikaru #report #helical #hikaru//#h-el-ical//#hikaru birthday event #live stream #live stream event #this post will be updated #long text post

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silverdecepticon93 · 4 years

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Protective Brothers| Batfam! Reader x Spiderman

A/n: This was...interesting for me to write, I suppose.

(Sh/n)= Supherhero's Name (N/n)= Nickname (M/n)= Middle Name Prompt 4: "WOAH! I think you're overreacting about the situation! (Y/n) Wayne was the second youngest out of her family, she was often fussed over and it was flattering at times, but it was annoying when they were ever out on patrol. (Sh/n) may have been the least respected hero in Gotham, this you blamed your brothers for, and they often would do safety measures in case. "Dick! I had him!" (Y/n) growled, taking her mask off. They were currently entering the Batcave and the (h/c)-ette was angered by the fact that Dick had knocked out every one of Joker's minions before (y/n) had a chance to even exchange smack talk with one of them. "C'mon (Y/n), we just don't want you getting hurt. You haven't exactly proven that you know how to handle yourself." Your older brother, Jason, pointed out. "That's because you guys won't let me! I'm sure if you let me have a chance to actually fight someone, you would be thoroughly impressed." You pleaded. Tim ruffled your hair and laughed at the glare you gave him, he then had a serious look in his eye, "(Y/n), we just aren't sure if you have what it takes to be a hero." You bit your tongue, if you went off on Tim right now it would just be another excuse they would be able to use on you, and you weren't going to allow them to have any more ammo then they already have. "I just hate it when you guys gang up on me! Do you know how much (Sh/n) gets disrespected? Heck, even Damian is acting like he's older than me!" You defended "Age is just a trivial number, it's the power of your mind that counts in life." Damian monotoned, he was about to your shoulder and he ruffled your hair as well. You knew that they were teasing you, but it was just so annoying when the blocked out your voice. The laughs that erupted from the room got you so angry, you stormed away from the group of jerks that you called 'brothers' and stomped up to your room. "I am so done with this!" you shouted before slamming your door. All four seemed to appear at your door with inhuman speed and started knocking at it, their voices were overlapping one another. They may have been trying to make you feel better but their pleading got so annoying. "C'mon (y/n)! We were just teasing!" Dick tried to reason. "Hey, we promise to stop teasing you, (n/n)! You know we love you!" Tim attempted to coax. "Great job, Damian!" Jason blamed. "How is this my fault, Todd?!" Damian began. You rolled your (e/c) eyes and you heard a knock on your window, you smiled when you turned your head and saw the love of your life, and weren't you glad that your brothers were arguing which makes escaping through the window a piece of cake. Opening the window, Peter attempted to give you a kiss but you stopped him. 'Not right now.' You mouthed, earning a confused look from him. You pointed to your door which was the only thing keeping your brothers away from smothering you to death. Peter put down the lower part of his mask and nodded to you, meaning he understood. He held out his arm, the other one was hanging onto a web, and your smile grew wider. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let out a little 'yelp' when he began to swing into the night air. "Were you brothers babying you again?" He asked, breaking the silence. You just cuddled into his chest as a response and tightened your grip around his neck. He then stopped on top of the tallest building overlooking Gotham, it just so happened to be a 'Wayne Enterprises' building, and you sat next to each other in a comfy silence. You put your head on his shoulder and he began to run his fingers through your (h/c) hair. You began to tell him about how Dick decided to completely make sure you didn't get any action. "I've trained to be a hero because I want to help people, I want to be someone the public could depend on, and I can't do that if they're constantly protecting me 24/7!" You ranted. Peter just chuckled and put his chin on top of your head, he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into your neck, and boy did that chill you out. You embraced him back and hummed in content. "What are you doing in Gotham, anyway?" you asked him. "Well, I have to fly to Germany soon for my first mission!" You giggled as you saw his eyes light up in excitement," I wanted to stop by to tell you!" "Lucky!" You whined, "What is your first mission, exactly?" "Against Captian America!" He mused. Your eyes widened, Captian America?! He got to fight Captian...freakin' America?!? The only people you fight are your older brothers for your hotspot password when Alfred accidentally does something to the modem. "I wish I was trusted with things like that!" You felt so angry right now. You were a hero before Peter was, you were the one who helped train him, and you're going to be stuck in that house not going to Germany to fight anybody. You knew you were being selfish but it was just so unfair, you let go of Peter as a sign you needed space, but Peter didn't know that. It didn't take him that long to realize he had basically reminded you that you'd never be able to do the things you wanted with your brothers around. "I'm sorry, (y/n), I just got excited." The brunette apologized," I didn't mean t-" "No, I'm just being overdramatic at this point." You reasoned and you looked at him, "I'm proud of you, Pete." You watched as his eyes brightened, he loved praise from you, and it reminded you of a puppy. You gave him a peck on the cheek and it was adorable watching him get so flustered. "I love you, (n/n)." He said quietly, his face seemed closer to yours. "I love you too, Underoos.~" You purred. Usually, he would've gotten pretty mad at you for that nickname, but your face was getting increasingly closer to his own. Your lips were puckered and he puckered his own lips as well, ready for a kiss...but something stopped it. You paled when you looked at it, this wasn't just any random projectile, and it scared you because you knew who it belonged to. That Batarang was your family's signature weapon and Peter saw it too, and he looked up at you. "(Y/N) (M/N) WAYNE! HOW DARE YOU SNEAK OUT OF YOUR ROOM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!?!?" You knew that voice anywhere, Damian. "WHO IS THAT WITH YOU!?" Jason held his gun up and you stood in front of Peter. "HOLY HECK! THAT'S SPIDERMAN! I LOVE YOUR VIDEOS!" Dick mused, only to get hit by Tim. "HE KIDNAPPED OUR SISTER!" Tim growled. "Whoa! Don't you think you're overreacting about the situation?" You asked them. Dick frowned but then shrugged. You sighed and told Peter you would handle this, Peter knew how you defensive you could get when it came to anyone you loved, but wasn't it a shame that your brothers never allowed you to demonstrate how defensive you could get. "(Y/n) how long have you been seeing this wannabe hero?" Jason growled, his eyes glaring into your own. "I will have you know that this 'wannabe hero' has actually listened to me when you guys haven't! He believes that I'm ready to be a hero!" You began. "How long are you going to keep that up?" Damian deadpanned, "You're not ready yet." Peter knew that wasn't true and took a big risk. Inhaling deeply and walking by your side, he was going to do the scariest thing that tends to kill a man, and that was meeting your family. "I-I don't w-want to start anything," Stong start, Petey, "But, (y/n) is a great hero and i-if you g-gave her a chance, you may be im-impressed." All four of your brothers glared at him, and Peter knew that he fucked up. "Who do you think you are? I'm pretty sure I know my sister better than you do, 'Spidey', so I suggest you go back to that rathole you live in and never talk to my sister again." Tim growled. Peter wasn't good when it came to being confronted, though it was kinda ironic depending on his job, and you could tell he was trying hard not to cry. Well, if that's the way their gonna treat Peter, then they're gonna have to face the consequences. "THAT IS IT! YOU CANNOT TAKE PETER AWAY FROM ME OR TAKE ME AWAY FROM PETER! IF YOU GUYS ARE GONNA ACT LIKE THIS ALL THE TIME THEN I MAY AS WELL MOVE OUT!" You threatened. They all looked at you in surprise, Peter included, and then they swarmed to you. Dick and Tim were much more caring and said things like "NO! I PROMISE WE'LL LET YOU GET SOME ACTION DURING PATROLS!" and "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE US! YOU'RE THE ONE THING KEEPING US FROM KILLING EACH OTHER!"...then we had Jason and Damian saying stuff like "I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND CHAIN YOU TO YOUR ROOM IF YOU LEAVE!" or "I WILL KILL HIM IF YOU DECIDE TO RUN OFF WITH HIM!". Their voices were overlapping again and you just started shouting at them as well. Peter watched in the distance as he saw you screaming over your brothers until one strong hand was put on his shoulder. He looked up in surprise to face BATMAN HIMSELF! "You're (Y/n)'s boyfriend, I'm assuming?" He began in his usual deep tone. "Y-yes s-sir, I-I am that b-boyfriend." Peter wasn't sure if he was scared or just elated. "I know you're gonna take care of her, you have been the past 2 years you two were together," Batman explained, maybe having the intention to intimidate the young hero with his detective skills, "So don't give up because those four told you." He pointed at the robins and Peter smiled when he saw that you had one arm pinning Jason's arm behind his back and the other on Damian's pressure point, Tim and Dick help up their hands in surrender and gave the caped crusader a pleading look. "Don't worry, sir! I won't." ~Bonus~ "BRUCE! CALL HER OFF!"Jason grunted, he let out a pained whimper when you tightened your grip. "Then both of you take back what you said about my Petey!" You growled. "NEVER!" Both Jason and Damian shouted, only to whimper when you began to tighten the grip on both of your brothers. "Maybe we should start letting her go on missions." Tim murmured. "Yeah, maybe we should..." Dick agreed.

#Batfam x reader #Batfam x you #Batbros x reader #batbros x you #Dc x reader #Dc x you #Marvel x reader #Marvel x you #MCU x reader #MCU x you #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker x you #Spiderman x reader #Spiderman x you

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jangofctts · 4 years

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Quix·ot·ic (The Mandalorian x Reader)

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: He's an enigma. Something completely unattainable, but after finding yourself on the wrong end of trouble, that all changes. Who knew getting beat up would end up with a handjob.

Warnings: Smut, language, dirty talk, handjobs, mentions of blood and violence, reader gets beat up :(

You never knew for sure what you would end up doing in your life. You imagined you'd become a moisture farmer on Tatooine or a bartender on Coruscant, maybe get to see a drunken fight or two if you were lucky. Or maybe you'd end up in some Wild Space planet where you'd live out the rest of your days eating berries and soaking up the sun. Whatever the case, being hired by a Mandalorian was not on your list of positively exuberant made up occupations. Or, you know, having a teeny tiny crush on said man.

It's generous pay, a gracious 12 percent of his quarries, and you feel sorta bad because, truly, you don't do anything besides babysit the little green monster and occasionally fly the Razor Crest. You do however, manage to get the hyperdrive working up to a staggering 68 percent functionality rate that you're quite proud of. You're not sure if he cared when you mentioned it to him, but he did offer an impartial tilt of his helmet. You like to believe it was his way of saying that, Ah, yes, of course. I needed that fixed. Thank you so very much my beloved companion. What would I do without you?

He would never say that. In fact, he doesn't really say anything at all. You're used to bustling crowds and chatty folk and talking your way out of things because, hey, not everyone is a walking armory that's nigh indestructible. You don't think you've ever been this silent in your meager life, and so you've pushed yourself into a corner. You don't ask questions even if that miraculous shiny helmet and smooth modulated voice makes a million of them spring forth. You don't know a thing except for the highly exaggerated or just plain wrong theories you've heard about the Mandalorians, and you don't want to offend him. You're not willing to poke at his patience even if it is tempting.

Sometimes, when he brings back bounties, it offers you a bit of in-house entertainment. Seeing him wrestle them into carbonite is really, if you're being honest, hot. It shouldn't be and it terrifies you that he's that strong, but your dirty, disgusting ape-brain still gets a kick out of it.

You end up just talking to the kid most days. It just coos and babbles, understanding jack-shit, but the Mandalorian is unattainable, a lonesome planet that's not even in your fucking orbit, and you're pretty sure he forgets you exist most of the time.

And then everything shifts.

You go outside for once, antsy from being cooped up in the Crest for so long and you need stuff for the kid (and caf for yourself). Naturally, you wander through the markets, not really thinking, just letting your eyes graze over things, take in the buzzing crowds. It reminds you of home and you get so lost in your head (you blame it on your constant isolation) that you wander into some grubby cantina. They're playing Sabaac in the corner and somehow you're roped into playing. Stars, you don't even know how to play Sabaac very well and of course you end up loosing.

It wasn't even your money to begin with; you took the seat of a Bothan who angrily threw their cards down, but for some reason the stupid Rodian sitting to your left got the idea that you did, in fact, owe him a great deal of Calamari flan. You thought you outsmarted him by feigning the need to take a piss and then squeezing through the much too small window in the bathroom. Unfortunately, when you're halfway sticking out, wriggling around like some weird earthworm, the Rodian's got two more buddies with him and they yank you out the window.

Really, you're lucky that all they did was beat the living shit out of you instead of selling you to some Spice mine or to some seedy guy with a penchant for half-naked slaves. You tell yourself this as you manage to pick yourself off the grimy ground and limp, somewhat conscious, back to the Razor Crest.

Your head is pounding noticeably by the time you reach it and fuzzy darkness is creeping at the edges of your vision. You're relieved that he isn't back yet, because this is embarrassing and you don't want him to think that you're some sort of trouble maker. He doesn't need more problems added on to his plate. You have just enough time to lower yourself onto the floor and pass out against a cargo crate.

Hours pass before you wake up, and you know this because the sun is melting against the horizon like butter (wasn't it just morning?) and oh—the Mandalorian is hovering over you. The sun is reflecting off his armor and it almost hurts to look at him. You have to blink a few times to make sure you aren't hallucinating and he really is saying your name in that lovely baritone voice of his, all raspy and modified by the vocoder.

"Ah, shiny, you're back." You don't know why that's the first thing you say and you want to knock yourself out again.

"Who did this?" He's asking and you can't really process words right now, much less concentrate on anything but your spinning head. He sounds mad but you can't be sure if it's directed at your own stupidity.

Maker, how are you still alive?

You don't recall shutting your eyes again but two large hands that cup the sides of your face make them open. "Hey. Stay with me."

"Never left, Mando."

"Who did this to you?" He asks again and your brain finally catches up a bit and it's jarring to know that he cares about you. At least a little.

You try to sit up but he's gently holding you in place. "M'fine. Jus—jus' a few bruises."

Again, you try to stand but his hands are gripping your shoulders and forcing you back against the crate. Your heart pounds against your chest at his prolonged touch.

"Just stop—damnit! Stay still," Mando snarls as you try to wriggle out of his grip for a third time. "Let me see."

You stare up at that unforgiving mask as he pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, wincing at the movement. You know you have a black eye and the crusty feel of dried blood is lain on thick above your hairline and you wonder if it looks as bad as it feels.

"They did a number on you."

Yup. They sure did you wanna say but it hurts to move your mouth and your tongue feels swollen and puffy like you're allergic to your own blood.

He says something about moving you to the bunk but as his hand slips under your armpit and wraps around your waist, you're gasping in pain. Your breath gets sucked away like someone's punched you in the gut and you crumple back onto the floor. His gloved hand comes away dark red.

"Shit—Take off your shirt." He commands, leaving no room for argument.

You huff out a laugh that's closer to a faint wheeze. "B-buy me a dri—a drink first."

"Maybe later."

Now that certainly grabs your attention but you don't have time to analyze all that because he hooks his hands under the hem of your shirt and yanks it above your shoulders and off your head. You look down and holy fucking shit—when the fuck did you get stabbed? You don't remember those thugs having knives.

"Stay here."

Like I'll be going anywhere, you want to quip back. The Mandalorian shuts the hull, blocking off your view of the spectacular sunset and returns with the cauterizer in hand. You make a face and try to fend him off, because you are not in the mood to get your flesh singed back together but he's set on the idea. It doesn't take long for him to wrestle your arm down and under your back, exposing the bloody gash that stretches from the middle of your ribcage and down until it stops just above the last rib.

You don't like the way you're positioned. He's somehow got your legs trapped between him and the crate while you're half splayed over his lap, one arm stuck beneath your own weight while the other he holds in a death grip. It's too vulnerable and when he trades his hold on your arm for a hand on your hip to get a better hold so he can start pressing the laser onto your flesh, arousal sparks in your belly.

Unfortunately, you don't get to enjoy the weight of his long fingers splayed across your skin or let the fantasy of him fucking you into the next galaxy play out, because razor sharp pain is erupting throughout your whole left side. You jerk in his grip and your mouth falls open with a silent cry. You've been burned before from stray wires or way too hot sheets of metal, but this? This is pure fucking torture and you don't know how the hell he does this to himself. Let alone stay conscious.

You do end up passing out again (an embarrassing fact he doesn't mention and you're thankful for it) and you awake to something warm and calloused trailing up and down your exposed skin, avoiding the sensitive area surrounding the charred and throbbing wound. It's soothing and almost entirely masks the pain. It isn't until the tip of a forefinger is carefully tracing lines between your freckles, most certainly studying them, that you realize whose finger it belongs to. Sans gloves.

You go rigid and he stops. You bite back a whine at the loss.

"Is...is this ok?" He's saying softly through the vocoder. It still sounds warm and dark despite the mechanical tone to it. You can hardly form a comprehensive thought and you have to fight through the hazy fog to force out a jerky nod of your head.

"Y-yeah," you croak out and there's a half second delay, if not shorter, before he's touching you again. This time it's bolder, braver like his fingers are starved and the only thing available is you.

His breath comes out stuttered as you twitch under him. "You're so soft."

His hands are a beautiful sun-kissed brown, speckled with scars from past battles. You want to plant kisses over the slopes of his knuckles, trail your tongue over the lines of his palm, but you're still uncomfortably trapped in his lap against the cold beskar cuirass. It's torture.

The Mandalorian's fingers dance up your shoulder, your breath stuttering as they skim over your collarbone then sweep up the column of your throat you readily bare for him. He threads those long, warm digits through your hair, thumbing the strands then tucks them behind your ear. Your heart slams against your ribcage and you're sure it might just burst.

"Breathe," he says. You can hear the smile in his words.

Despite the shaky inhale, it's even harder to breath and you wonder if one of your lungs collapsed as well. He gently pinches your chin, cradling your jaw so you're staring up at him. You can feel is eyes on you through that shaded visor and you nearly miss the hitch in his breath when your tongue flicks out and slides along the pad of his thumb that traces your bottom lip.

Liquid heat pools in your lower belly as two of his fingers press at the seam of your lips. You part your mouth and he ever so slowly slips them in. You groan softly and curl your tongue around the two digits until the shine with sticky saliva, the surrealness of the situation making you lightheaded. Who would've thought you'd be here after getting beaten and stabbed after a Sabaac game gone wrong, and you're all but giving Mando's fingers a blowjob. You wouldn't fucking believe, but yet, here you are.

His hips twitch as you curl your tongue around his middle finger and slide it between the delicate skin there, and you can feel the firm bulge digging into your lower back. Desperate and burning for the chance to touch him, you manage to wiggle your arm behind your back, tracing the cuirass all the way down to the hem of his trousers. You palm at his cock through the material and his hips jerk into the touch, his torso hunching over you, the cold metal brushing over your arm. His fingers leave your mouth with a slick pop and he's reaching in between you to grasp at your wrist and grind your palm harder against cock. The angle in which your arm is twisted is uncomfortable at best, but your mind rears at the thought of moving. You don't want whatever this is to end.

"Shit," he hisses. "S'good—fucking good."

"Mando," you whimper. He feels just as firm as beskar if not harder and you know your underwear is far beyond salvaging as his other hand wraps around and grabs at your breast.

"You—you're so pretty an—and brave," he grunts, thrusting his hips in tandem with the hold you've got on his throbbing cock. Your heart swells and you're blushing for an entire different reason. "So b-brave for me."

There's a brief pause as he shoos away your hand and your chest seizes in worry that you've upset him somehow. That he'd suddenly changed his mind about this whole thing. Is going to kill you? Put you out of your fucking misery? Or—oh. Your fears are quickly stamped out once you realize he's shuffling his trousers down and tugging your hand back around him. He is searing hot, thick and pulsing in your hand and when you give it an experimental tug he makes a punched out sound.

It's an awkward angle, but Maker do you try. Mando doesn't seem to care and judging by the sticky wetness that's dribbling over your knuckles, he certainly likes it. Much too focused on your current task, you don't note his hand smooth over your stomach and slip under the waistband until his fingers are circling your clit. You gasp and buck your hips into his touch, your hand stopping.

"Keep—ah—going," he's muttering, lowering his helmet to rest on the curve of your shoulder. "Fuck. Don't stop."

It's hard (pun all intended), real hard to focus when his fingers are swiping down your soaking slit, gathering the wetness there then back up to draw meticulous patterns over the bundle of nerves. At this point, your brain is a muddled mess and you aren't doing much except for holding your hand loosely so he can fuck into it.

The tight circles he's drawing over your clit burn through you, drag you closer to the precipice, and you're whimpering out the only name you have for him. Wicked heat blooms in your abdomen, spreads through your core and sweeps out into your shaking legs. You arch into him and with a steady hand, he parts your lips, thrusts his fingers inside and grinds the heel of his palm where you need him the most.

"That's it. Go-good girl. Cum—cum for me." Paired with his voice as his fingers press up and curl into something sickeningly good and you're gone. "S'good girl."

Your eyes squeeze shut as light compatible to hyperspace explodes behind your eyelids. You don't think you've ever cum this hard and it almost aches how good it feels as your legs lock and your nerves are set on fire. It burns through you and you wouldn't be surprised if your body goes up in flames. You twitch and jerk in his lap, breathing ragged, as he continues to thrust into your cunt, letting you ride out each and every tendril of pleasure until you melt into his lap. He still toys with your oversensitive clit and you have to push his hand away.

An overwhelming wave of exhaustion abruptly washes over you; a mix of getting stabbed and just having the best damn orgasm of your life you think. But Mando is still rutting up against your back and you fight the urge to close your eyes and pass the fuck out. With a shaky hand, you reach for his cock once again, a fresh wave of heat flashing through you as a lovely moan, soft and vulnerable echoes through the modulator.

"Maker," he gasps, "You—I'm—M'gonna cum.."

He wraps his hand around yours, squeezing around the hardened flesh and giving his cock a few more hard thrusts before a broken gasp rips through the modulator. His body stiffens and the Mandalorian cums hard. Hot ropes of liquid coat your hand and the small of your back, his cock throbbing and pulsing in your grip. He snarls out your name, still thrusting up into your fist, milking every last spurt of cum until it tapers off and swears are tumbling out.

Sleep is tugging at your eyelids when his rapid breathing begins to even out, his fingers spreading his seed over your back as if marking you. You shiver. "M'falling asleep."

"Yeah, ok," he's breathes. "You need rest. Brave girl—you did so well. Close your eyes."

You do just that and fall into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

#the mandolarian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #smut #the pedro pascal thirst is real yall #pedro pascal #star wars #uh oh sisters we back on some bullshit #my writing #itsspacecowboys

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